Harry Potter and the Labyrinth of Evil
by Guardian Kitch
Summary: The sequel to The Sins of the Father. Labyrinth of Evil starts off with Goblet of Fire. As Kitch and his friends begin Hogwarts, they, along with Harry, Ron, and Hermione learn that your darkest enemies can be those who call themselves your friends...
1. The Prisoner of Azkaban

**Okay, here's the first chapter. Now, in case you don't know, this is the sequel to my story _The Sins of the Father _and picks up a few months down the road from that story. If you've not yet read _The Sins of the Father _then I suggest you do so now before moving on with this story, for though it's understandable without doing so a lot of things will seem off.**

**Now, while it still follows Kitch, Elianna, and Tabitha following the Black Sun Rebellions, it will also begin incorporating many other characters, including Harry, Ron, Hermione, at some points Sirius Black, and a few new Original Characters. The list of main characters can be found directly below here.**

**This chapter picks up directly at the end of the third book, _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. _This story and its sequels will directly follow the books for the most part, making some changes, big and small, to accomodate my OCs and plot-twists. **

**Also, the title comes from a book in the _Star Wars Universe, _taking place just before and leading directly into _Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith._**

**And, as always, _Harry Potter _does not belong to me in any shape, form, or fashion, nor does _Star Wars_. Now, on with the show.**

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><p><strong>DRAMATIS PERSONAE<strong>

**Kitch Grant** (male Human, Underage Wizard)

**Elianna Kasumi** (female Human, Underage Witch)

**Tabitha Harding **(female Human, Underage Witch)

**Daemon Black **(male Human, Underage Wizard)

**Duran Detreo** (male Human, Warlock-in-Training)

**Harry Potter **(male Human, Underage Wizard)

**Hermione Granger **(female Human, Underage Witch)

**Ronald Weasley **(male Human, Underage Wizard)

**Sirius Black **(male Human, Escaped Prisoner of Azkaban)

**Luna Lovegood** (female Human, Underage Witch)

**Lor Grant **(female Human, Hogwarts Professor, Healing Arts of Magic)

**Brawley Monaghan **(male Human, new owner of Quality Quidditch Supplies)

**Jessica Grant **(female Human, Ministry of Magic Employee, Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office)

**Zannah Grant** (female Human, MoM Employee, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures)

**Raven Grant **(female Human, Magical Bounty Hunter)

**Izumi Tatsu **(female Human, former Black Suns lieutenant, Dread Lady of Sithis)

**Saul Brooks **(male Human, Underage Wizard, Dread Apprentice of Sithis)

**Skipper **(male House-Elf, Grant Family Servent)

**Razor **(male House-Elf, McGonagall Family Servent)

**M****atthias Grant** (male Human, ex-Dread Lord, former leader/founder of the Black Suns, Prisoner of Lusankya)

**Kyp Brinkley **(male Unknown, Shii-Chi Mage and Weapons Master)

**Sithis **(male entity, Greater Demon of Darkness)

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><p><em><strong>Chapter One: The Prisoner of Azkaban<strong>_

{**Location: **Savannah Hill Manor, northern England}

[Sunday, July 3, 1994 A.D.]

(1600 hours; 4:00 P.M.)

As the Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station the next morning, Hermione gave Harry and Ron some surprising news.

"I went to see Professor McGonagall this morning, just before breakfast. I've decided to drop Muggle Studies."

"But you passed your exam with three hundred and twenty percent!" Said Ron.

"I know," Sighed Hermione. "But I can't stand another year like this one. That Time-Turner, it was driving me mad. I've handed it in. Without Muggle Studies and Divination, I'll be able to have a normal schedule again."

"I still can't _believe_ you didn't tell us about it." Said Ron grumpily. "We're supposed to be your _friends._"

"I promised I wouldn't tell _anyone_." Said Hermione severely. She looked around at Harry, who was watching Hogwarts disappear from view behind a mountain. Two whole months before he'd see it again…

"Oh, cheer up, Harry!" Said Hermione sadly.

"I'm okay." Said Harry quickly. "Just thinking about the holidays."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about them too." Said Ron. "Harry, you've got to come and stay with us. I'll fix it up with Mum and Dad, then I'll call you. I know how to use a fellytone now-"

"A _telephone_, Ron," Said Hermione. "Honestly, _you _should take Muggle Studies next year…"

Ron ignored her.

"It's the Quidditch World Cup this summer! How about it, Harry? Come and stay, and we'll go see it! Dad can usually get tickets from work."

This proposal had the effect of cheering Harry up a great deal.

"Yeah…I bet the Dursleys'd be pleased to let me come…especially after what I did to Aunt Marge…"

Feeling considerably more cheerful, Harry joined Ron and Hermione in several games of Exploding Snap, and when the witch with the tea cart arrived, he bought himself a very large lunch, though nothing with chocolate in it.

But it was late in the afternoon before the thing that made him truly happy turned up…

"Harry," Said Hermione suddenly, peering over his shoulder. "What's that thing outside your window?"

Harry turned to look outside. Something very small and gray was bobbing in and out of sight beyond the glass. He stood up for a better look and saw that it was a tiny owl, carrying a letter that was much too big for it. The owl was so small, in fact, that it kept tumbling over in the air, buffeted this way and that in the train's slipstream. Harry quickly pulled down the window, stretched out his arm, and caught it. It felt like a very fluffy Snitch. He brought it carefully inside. The owl dropped its letter onto Harry's seat and began zooming around their compartment, apparently very pleased with itself for accomplishing its task. Hedwig clicked her beak with a sort of dignified disapproval. Crookshanks sat up in his seat, following the owl with his great yellow eyes. Ron, noticing this, snatched the owl safely out of harm's way.

Harry picked up the letter. It was addressed to him. He ripped open the letter, and shouted, "It's from Sirius!"

"What?" Said Ron and Hermione excitedly. "Read it aloud!"

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope this finds you before you reach your aunt and uncle. I don't know whether they're used to owl post._

_Buckbeak and I are in hiding. I won't tell you where, in case this owl falls into the wrong hands. I have some doubt about his reliability, but he is the best I could find, and he did seem eager for the job._

_I believe the dementors are still searching for me, but they haven't a hope of finding me here. I am planning to allow some muggles to glimpse me soon, a long way from Hogwarts, so that the security on the castle will be lifted._

_There is something I never got around to telling you during our brief meeting. It was I who sent you the Firebolt-"_

"Ha!" Said Hermione triumphantly. "See! I _told _you it was from him!"

"Yes, but he hadn't jinxed it, had he?" Said Ron. "Ouch!" The tiny owl, now hooting happily in his hand, had nibbled one of his fingers in what it seemed to think was an affectionate way.

_Crookshanks took the order to the Owl Office for me. I used your name but told them to take the gold from my own Gringotts vault. Please consider it as thirteen birthdays' worth of presents from your godfather._

_I would also like to apologize for the fright I think I gave you that night last year when you left your uncle's house. I had only hoped to get a glimpse of you before starting my journey north, but I think the sight of me alarmed you._

_I am enclosing something else for you, which I think will make your next year at Hogwarts more enjoyable._

_If ever you need me, send word. Your owl will find me._

_I'll write again soon._

_Sirius_

Harry looked eagerly inside the envelope. There was another piece of parchment in there. He read it through quickly and felt suddenly as warm and contented as though he'd swallowed a bottle of butterbeer in one gulp.

_I, Sirius Black, Harry Potter's godfather, hereby give him permission to visit Hogsmeade on weekends._

"That'll be good enough for Dumbledore!" said Harry happily. He looked back at Sirius's letter.

"Hang on, there's a P.S…."

_I thought your friend Ron might like to keep this owl, as it's my fault he no longer has a rat._

Ron's eyes widened. The minute owl was still hooting excitedly.

"Keep him?" He said uncertainly. He looked closely at the owl for a moment; then, to Harry's and Hermione's great surprise, he held him out for Crookshanks to sniff.

"What do'you reckon?" Ron asked the cat. "Definitely an owl?"

Crookshanks purred.

"That's good enough for me." Said Ron happily. "He's mine."

"Hang on, Harry, look!" Hermione exclaimed, again looking out at the window past his shoulders.

"Blimey, Harry, there's another one!" Ron added, pointing out at the large shape that could be nothing more than a massive Horned Owl flapping powerfully towards the window to their compartment. Harry again stood open, opening the window just in time for the newest owl to soar through and drop the letter it was holding into the seat Harry had again vacated. Not stopping, the owl turned around and soared back out the window.

Closing the window behind him, Harry walked over and retrieved the second letter, ripping open the envelope as he noticed, rather absently, that it was also addressed to him. After reading only the first paragraph, Harry plopped back down in his seat, feeling so happy now that he half-expected he might explode. "It's from Lor!"

"What?" Hermione and Ron again asked excitedly. "Come on then, read it aloud!"

_Dear Harry,_

_I half-hope this letter finds its way into your hands before you reach King's Cross, as I'm not fully certain whether or not Petunia and Vernon allow you to receive owl post. Of course, if they do not and I don't hear from you by the end of the first week of July then I'll make sure that situation is remedied._

_I want to apologize for disappearing from Hogwarts as I did following our last lesson, but my son was captured (and presumed killed) by the Black Sun Syndicate back in the States and I had to go take care of my own family. No worries, though; in case you've not heard, the Black Suns are finished and my family is okay and we've safely completed our move back to Britain._

_I also want to again apologize for waiting for thirteen years to finally face you as I should have done many years ago. When we first met, I told you that you looked precisely like your father, only with your mother's eyes. However, I feel you should know that your eyes are not the only thing you inherited from Lily: my best friend also passed to you her kind heart and her outstanding courage. You are far more like your parents than you can possibly imagine, and in time you will come to see just how much, and remember, no matter what happens in the future, the ones we love never truly leave us. They live still, calling home the depths of your heart, where they reside, even and perhaps especially when you need them the most._

_I expect I'll see you within a week or two: I do plan on coming by and taking you away from your aunt and uncle, even if it is only for a day. I spoke with Dumbledore about perhaps you coming to live with me and my bunch, but the Headmaster seems to remain firm about his insistence that he has excellent reasons for your continuing residence with Petunia and that wart-of-a-husband of hers. Honestly, if your grandparents were still alive…I'd _almost _feel sorry for that woman._

_Regardless, I must be going now, as I still have a mountain of work in front of me before this place is truly livable: honestly, let's see _you _leave a house alone with a half-mad house-elf for a couple of decades and see how long it takes you to clean it up. As I would bet that house-elf that you're even now reading my words aloud to Ron and Hermione, give them both my best and remind them to _try _and stay out of trouble this summer._

_Oh, and before I forget, I'm enclosing something else for you, which I think will make your next year at Hogwarts much more enjoyable. If ever you need me, any time day _or _night, you need only to send word: your owl will find me here at Savannah Hill manor._

_I'll write again fairly soon, so don't you dare worry: I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. _

_Lor_

Again Harry looked eagerly inside the envelope. There was another piece of parchment in there. He read it through quickly and suddenly found himself unable to stop laughing.

_I, Lor Grant, Harry Potter's godmother, hereby give him permission to visit Hogsmeade village on weekends._

"That's a shame." Ron said with a shrug of your shoulder. "Wonder what reasons Dumbledore has for you staying with your aunt and uncle…always did suspect he was off his rocker."

"Oh no." Harry gasped suddenly, a horrible sensation suddenly sneaking up into the pit of his stomach, deflating some of his happiness.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

"Sirius. She still thinks Sirius is guilty of betraying my parents and killing Pettigrew."

"But Sirius's letter said he and Buckbeak are already in hiding, right?" Hermione asked. "What are the chances of her finding him anytime soon?"

Harry read and reread the letters from Sirius and Lor all the way back into King's Cross Station. They was still clutched tightly in his hand as he, Ron, and Hermione, stepped back through the barrier of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Harry spotted Uncle Vernon at once. He was standing a good distance from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, eyeing them suspiciously, and when Mrs. Weasley hugged Harry in greeting, his worst suspicions about them seemed confirmed.

"I'll call about the World Cup!" Ron yelled after Harry as Harry bid him and Hermione good-bye, then wheeled the trolley bearing his trunk and Hedwig's cage toward Uncle Vernon, who greeted him in his usual fashion.

"What's that?" He snarled, staring at the envelopes Harry was still clutching in his hand. "If they're more forms for me to sign, you've got another-"

"They're not." Said Harry cheerfully. "They're letters from my godparents."

"Godparents?" Sputtered Uncle Vernon. "You haven't got godparents!"

"Yes, I have." Said Harry brightly. "They were my mum and dad's best friends. _He's _a convicted murderer, but he's broken out of wizard prison and he's on the run. He likes to keep in touch with me, though…keep up with my news…check if I'm happy…you know. _She's _just moved from America and she says she's going to come by one day soon and take me out for a day, and she also wants to check if I'm happy…if I don't write her regular she'll assume something's happened…"

And, grinning broadly at the look of horror on Uncle Vernon's face, Harry sat off toward the station exit, Hedwig rattling along in front of him, for what looked like a much better summer than the last.

* * *

><p>{<strong>Location: <strong>Savannah Hill, northern England}

[Sunday, July 3, 1994 A.D.]

(1600; 4:00 P.M.)

Dressed in a black t-shirt and knee-length shorts, Lor Grant stood patiently in the small clearing located in the dense woods behind her home. She was close enough to the massive estate to walk but far enough away that no one would see or hear what was about to happen, whatever that event might be.

Earlier that morning she had received an owl from her old school friend, Remus Lupin, days before, asking if he could meet her at her home but also at a location that was relatively secluded. This struck Lor as odd, and while part of her felt suspicious, she had decided to agree to his request: she trusted her werewolf friend with her life, and whatever it might be she knew the man had a good reason for wanting to meet her alone. She'd given him directions on how to reach her without being seen, and she'd made sure to choose a time when the estate was at its emptiest.

She heard the sound of footsteps approaching and clearing her mind she turned and moved forward, meeting her friend as he entered the clearing as well, and without speaking Lor wrapped her old friend up in a tight embrace, happy to see him once again. She knew immediately, however, that something was different...something was wrong.

"Spill." She demanded as she disengaged the embrace. "What's wrong?"

"I resigned." Lupin answered simply. "Me teaching at Hogwarts is too much of a risk."

"You're harmless as long as you keep up with your-"

"That's exactly the point," He interrupted. "I forgot to take my potion during the week preceding the last full moon."

"Oh no." Lor groaned, knowing too well what her friend was like when he'd fully transformed. "Did you at least make it to the Shrieking Shack?"

Lupin nodded his head and Lor exhaled a breath she'd not realized she'd taken. "Along with Harry, Ron, and Hermione."

Lor's blood turned cold. "You didn't-"

"They're fine." He assured her. "There's something else I need to tell you Lor, but first, you must promise me to listen with an open mind; we don't need you jumping to the wrong conclusions."

"About what?"

"Sirius." Lupin answered simply.

Now Lor felt as though she was on the verge of passing out. She swayed but quickly caught herself, forcing herself to remain calm and aware. "What's happened?" Lor asked. "He didn't get to Harry did he?"

Lupin nodded his head, and not passing out was quickly becoming a war Lor was losing.

"It's not like you think though, Lor. We were wrong, we were wrong about everything we thought we knew about what happened thirteen years ago."

"What do you mean, Remus?"

"Sirius." He explained. "He never betrayed Lily and James to Voldemort, he was innocent."

"Innocent?" Lor asked, not believing the words coming out of her friend's mouth. "Remus, I'm sorry, but the Ministry of Magic had several witnesses who saw him blast that street apart; they confirmed his murder of those twelve muggles and little Peter. That blast was so powerful that all they ever found of him was-"

"A finger." A new voice said, and even though she'd not heard that voice in over twelve years she'd never forget it, nor would she ever forget that voice's owner. Lor twirled around, jerking her wand from her shorts pocket, and with the skills that had allowed her to defeat her ex-husband all those years ago she took dead aim at the head of convicted murderer Sirius Black. His hair was a dark, filthy mass that hung down to his elbows, and his deep, dark sockets were so grim that had it not been for his eyes he'd have passed for a corpse. His skin was waxy, tightly stretched over his skeleton, his face looking more like a mere skull than anything, and his yellowed teeth were so bright she could see each tooth perfectly...Azkaban, she reflected, had taken its toll.

"YOU!" She roared, forcing herself not to cast her curse just yet. "BETRAYING JAMES AND LILY WASN'T ENOUGH, WAS IT-"

"Lor-" Remus began, but Lor snapped her head in his direction as her blood began to boil white hot.

"And you!" She added. "I thought you were better than this, Remus. I trusted you-"

"Sirius is innocent." Lupin quickly countered, moving to place himself between his two friends. "We've always thought Sirius turned Lily and James over to Voldemort and that Peter went to track him down and Sirius killed him, but that's not how it really happened-"

"I see." Lor interrupted, not knowing why she hadn't seen it before. "He's put you under the Imperius-"

"No one's been cursed!" Sirius corrected, sounding as though he was beginning to lose his patience. "Peter Pettigrew is still alive."

'That's ridiculous." Lor scoffed, unable to believe the lengths her former friend was going to in order to gain his freedom.

"It's the truth." Lupin confirmed. "James and Sirius changed the plan at the last minute. Instead of using Sirius as their Secret-Keeper James and Lily used Peter, a bluff they felt would fool Voldemort and spare them. Peter, however, was the spy all along; during the year leading up to the attack on Harry he'd been passing information to Voldemort from inside the Order of the Phoenix the entire time, and we never even _suspected_ him!"

"They found his finger-"

"The bloody coward cut it off himself and then transformed into a rat to escape." Sirius finished. Lor, however, shook her head.

"I don't believe you, Sirius Black." She growled. "You betrayed your friends for a bit of glory; you're more of a coward than Severus Snape could ever dream of being."

Her words, she knew, had cut him deep, just as she'd meant them to. Sirius had once been among her best friends, _the _best of her friends after Lily Evans. His betrayal had left Lily and James dead, Harry orphaned, and Lor more alone than ever in the world; it was time, she decided, for him to pay for his crimes.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!" _She shouted, but Sirius was already on the move, easily dodging her curse.

"_Expelliarmus!" _He countered, but Lor's Shielding Charm quickly protected her from losing her wand.

She gave her wand another _swish_ and another jet of green light escaped it, and while Sirius Black again escaped her Killing Curse it was only a narrow escape; realizing she had an advantage Lor moved to press her attack. Another jet of green light flew from her wand, but Sirius, while a walking skeleton, had obviously retained his cunning, cleaver personality. The escaped prisoner of Azkaban aimed his wand at a log, and with a flick of his wrist the log was sailing through the air, intercepting the Killing Curse before it could reach him.

"_Expelliarmus!" _He again shouted, and again Lor blocked the attack. Now, though, she could feel confusion beginning to cloud her mind. Sirius was still obviously very powerful; what little power he did lose in Azkaban was quickly coming back. Why, then, when he'd killed twelve muggles, a wizard, and betrayed his best friend's family over to the Dark Lord Voldemort, was he only fighting to _Disarm_ her? Why was he not trying to kill her?

"Lor," Sirius said, as though he was picking up on her confusion. "Please give me a chance to explain what really happened."

"I know what happened." She responded. "You betrayed Lily and James-"

"No!" Lupin corrected. "Peter was their Secret-Keeper; _he's _the one who told Voldemort he could find James and Lily in Godric's Hollow."

"Once I realized what had happened I tracked Peter down, but before I could curse the coward he screamed at me and accused me of betraying them, blasted the street apart, cut off his finger, transformed into a rat, and made his escape."

"Then why did you try to force your way into the school?" Lor challenged, her wand still ready to attack once more. "Why did you try to force entry into Gryffindor Tower? The last I checked, those were not the actions of innocent men."

"Peter's been living as a rat for the past twelve years, the pet of Ronald Weasley."

"Come again?" Lor asked, dumbfounded.

"Ron's pet rat," Lupin explained. "Scabbers; that was really Peter in his animagus form."

"How did you know he was there, then?" Lor asked, still refusing to believe this story. Sirius, in response, reached into his tattered robes and pulled out a newspaper clipping, tossing it to Lor, who deftly caught it and unfolded it.

Almost immediately she recognized Ron, the best friend of her godson and the one person who'd already mastered the Flamore Flame.

"Look on the boy's shoulder." Lupin ordered, and doing as her friend suggested she looked down at the paper, noticing an old rat lying on Ron's shoulder...

"My God." She gasped. "He _is _missing a toe."

Lor could not believe it. Sirius was proclaiming to be innocent, and while he had no real proof of his innocence what he was telling her was beginning to make more and more sense.

'_No.' _Lor reprimanded herself. _'There are still too many questions that need answering.'_

"How did you do it, then?" She asked, looking over once more at her one-time friend. "How, when no one else has ever done so, did you escape Azkaban? And how did you come to have a copy of the _Daily Prophet_?"

"Last year," Sirius began. "Fudge came to Azkaban for a routine inspection of the prison; he gave me his copy of the _Prophet_. That's when I noticed Peter, and the caption said the boy would be returning to Hogwarts."

"You transformed." Lor caught on. "The dementors can't see, so it was easy enough to escape as a great dog rather than a man."

Sirius nodded his head. "I knew I was innocent, that Peter was still alive. It wasn't a happy thought, so the dementors couldn't suck it out of me, but it kept me sane, allowed my powers to remain intact."

"We never discovered the spy among the members of the Order." Lor continued, putting the puzzle together a piece at a time. "It could have been anybody, so, to protect James, Lily, and Harry, when you switched Secret-Keepers you told no one else, not Remus, not Dumbledore, not even me, because the risk was too high of the truth leaking out to Voldemort."

Lor nearly fell to her knees. She had believed, as had everyone else, that Sirius was guilty of the crimes he'd been charged with, but now, twelve years later, she was being told differently, and while there was still no real proof everything did make sense.

"Does Harry know all of this?" She asked, trying to buy herself some time while she decided on just what she believed. Sirius and Lupin both nodded their heads.

"I can't-I can't believe this." Lor said slowly. "But it makes too much sense." She continued, lowering her wand. "We'll go back to my house; my son has a Pensive; we'll see just how true your words are."

Sirius nodded his head, but Lor again raised her wand, and this time Sirius had no warning as to her actions.

"_Expelliarmus." _She said lazily, and immediately his wand was flying through the air, and again Lor easily reached up and caught it.

"If I see that you're telling the truth, I'll give you your wand back." She explained. "However, if you're lying to me, in any way, Sirius, I will kill you, and I won't think twice about doing it. Are we agreed?"

Sirius Black nodded his head.

"Follow this path and it'll lead you straight to my back door." Lor explained, motioning for Sirius and Lupin to walk ahead of her so that she could keep an eye on them.

She was glade, now, that the mansion was empty. Kitch, Elianna, Tabitha, Raven, and Duran had gone down to the paddock to play some quidditch while the rest of the Kasumi family had decided to go spend some family time at a muggle theater in the neighboring muggle village. Jessica and Zannah were at work and Brawley and Bethesda were also hard at work, making the preliminary arrangements to relocate their businesses from America to England.

"I am curious," Lupin said a moment later. "As to why you never told the Ministry that Sirius is an unregistered animagus. If memory serves, _you're _the one who helped them pull it off."

Lor did not know how to respond. The fact was, she _had _considered doing just that. Dozens of times during the past year she had seriously considered writing to the Ministry of Magic and telling them that Sirius Black could change into a great, shaggy black dog. It would, after all, have likely helped them capture him well before now.

Another fact, one she dared not tell the two Marauders walking in front of her, was that she knew exactly why she'd not done so. Deep down she had always hoped, had always fantasized, that Sirius had somehow been framed for these crimes, that he'd never really turned Lily and James over to Lord Voldemort. She'd always dreamed of the day when some kind of evidence popped up proving Sirius's innocence. When she'd first heard of his escape she'd hoped he'd discovered some lead to that evidence, and because of that fantasy she'd risked so many lives, among them her godson's, by not going to the Ministry of Magic.

"I'm not proud of it." She said slowly. "I wanted to; there were countless times I almost did. But, if I had told the Ministry of Magic that Sirius Black was an unregistered animagus then I would face some punishment as well as an accomplice. I know that by not telling the Ministry I risked several lives, among them Harry's, and I've been eaten alive by guilt, but I was not willing to do time in Azkaban, not when my own family needs me."

It was, she reflected, partially true. It was skimming that line between a downright lie and a stretch of the truth, but she knew it would suffice for now. Besides, she told herself, she'd not yet been fully convinced that Sirius Black was indeed innocent.

The rest of the short walk was spent in silence, a silence broken only when the estate's mansion finally came into view for the first time.

"It looks as beautiful as ever." Sirius complimented as they walked up the back steps; Lor only nodded her head. She spoke only to give them directions to her son's room, and once there the trio gathered around the massive Pensive.

"Memory, now. Prove to me Peter Pettigrew is still really alive."

Sirius nodded his head as Lor put her wand to his head, and moments later a silver, liquidy substance began to wrap around the glowing tip of her wand, and once the strand of memory was free she turned and dipped it into the Pensive, and in unison the trio ducked their heads into the liquid.

Lor immediately recognized her surroundings; she was in the Shrieking Shack...

"_Ron-are you okay?" Harry asked as he and Hermione burst through the door._

"_Where's the dog?" Hermione added._

"_Not a dog." Ron moaned. His teeth were gritted with pain. "Harry, it's a trap-"_

"_What-"_

"He's the dog...he's an animagus..."

_Ron was standing over Harry's shoulder. Harry wheeled around; with a snap, Sirius, standing darkly in the shadows, closed the door behind them._

_A mass of filthy, matted hair hung to his elbows. If eyes hadn't been shining out of the deep, dark sockets, he might have been a corpse. The waxy skin was stretched so tightly over the bones of his face, it looked like a skull. His yellow teeth were now bared in a grin._

"Expelliarmus." _Sirius croaked, pointing a wand at Harry and Hermione._

_Their wands shot out of their hands, high in the air, and Sirius easily caught them. Then he took a step closer. His eyes were fixed on Harry._

"_I thought you'd come and help your friend," He said hoarsely. His voice sounded as though he had long since lost the habit of using it. "Your father would have done the same for me. Brave of you, not to run for a teacher. I'm grateful...it will make everything easier..."_

_Visibly angered at the mention of his father, Harry Potter started forward, but there was a sudden movement on either side of him as two pairs of hands grabbed him and held him back._

"_No, Harry!" Hermione gasped in a petrified whisper. Ron, however, spoke to Sirius._

"_If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too." He said fiercely, though the effort of standing upright was draining him still more color, and he swayed slightly as he spoke. Something seemed to flicker in Sirius's shadowed eyes._

"_Lie down," He said quietly to Ron. "You will damage that leg even more."_

"_Did you hear me?" Ron said weakly, though he was clinging painfully to Harry to stay upright. "You'll have to kill all three of us!"_

"_There'll be only one murder here tonight." Sirius said, and his grin widened._

"_Why's that?" Harry spat, trying to fight his way free of Ron and Hermione. "Didn't care last time, did you? Didn't mind slaughtering all those muggles to get at Pettigrew...what's the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?"_

"_Harry!" Hermione whimpered. "Be quiet."_

"_HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!" Harry roared, and finally he broke free of Hermione and Ron and lunged forward. Perhaps it was the shock of Harry doing something so stupid, but Black didn't raise his wand in time-one of Harry's hands fastened over his wasted wrist, forcing the wand tips away; the knuckles of Harry's other hand collided with the side of Black's head and they fell, backwards, into the wall-_

_Hermione was screaming; Ron was yelling; there was a blinding flash as the wands in Sirius's hand sent a jet of sparks into the air that missed Harry's face by inches. Sirius's trapped arm was twisting madly in an effort to get free, but his godson clung on, his free hand punching every part of Sirius it could find. Sirius's free hand, however, had found Harry's throat._

"_No," He hissed. "I've waited too long-"_

_As Sirius spoke his fingers tightened around Harry's throat, the boy's glasses now askew on his face._

_Out of nowhere Hermione came charging forward, her foot catching Sirius in the ribs, forcing him to let go of Harry in a fit of pain as Ron threw his wounded self onto Sirius's wand hand..._

_With a faint clatter Harry's wand rolled away, and the wand's owner fought free of the tangle of bodies and threw himself towards his wand, but-_

"_Argh!"_

_A giant ginger cat had entered the fray; both sets of front claws had sunk themselves deep into Harry's army; Harry threw him off, but the giant pig with fur now darted towards Harry's fallen wand..._

"_NO YOU DON'T!" Roared Harry, and he aimed a kick at the animal that made it leap aside, spitting; Harry snatched up his wand and turned._

"_Get out of the way!" He shouted at Ron and Hermione._

_They didn't need telling twice. Hermione, gasping for breath, her lip bleeding, scrambled aside, snatching up the two remaining wands. Ron, in turn, crawled to the four-poster bed and collapsed onto it, panting, his white face now tinged with green, both hands clutching his broken leg._

_Sirius Black, on the other hand, was sprawled at the bottom of the wall. His thin chest rose and fell rapidly as he watched Harry draw slowly nearer, his wand pointed directly at the convict's heart._

"_Going to kill me, Harry?" He whispered._

_Harry Potter stopped right above the fallen wizard, his wand still aimed at Sirius's chest as the boy looked down at Black. A livid bruise was rising around Sirius's left eye, and his nose was bleeding._

"_You killed my parents." Harry said, and while his voice shook his wand hand remained perfectly steady. Sirius stared up at him out of those sunken eyes._

"_I don't deny it," He said very quietly. "But if you knew the whole story-"_

"_The whole story?" Harry repeated. "You sold them to Voldemort. That's all I need to know."_

"_You've got to listen to me." Sirius said, a note of urgency popping up in his voice. "You'll regret it if you don't...you don't understand-"_

"_I understand a lot better than you think." Harry countered, his voice shaking more than ever. "You never heard her, did you? My mum...trying to stop Voldemort killing me...and you did that...you did it..."_

_Before either of them could say another word a blur of ginger streaked past Harry; that massive feline leapt onto Sirius's chest and settled himself there, right over the man's hear. Sirius blinked and looked down at the cat._

"_Get off." He murmured, trying to push the animal off him. That cat, however, sank his claws into Sirius's robes and would not shift. He turned his ugly, squashed face to Harry and looked up at him with those great yellow eyes. To Harry's right, Hermione gave a sad, dry sob._

_Harry raised his wand, and it seemed if Harry was about to cross that line. The seconds, however, lengthened, and still Harry stood there, as if frozen, his wand poised, Sirius staring straight at him, that massive cat still on his chest. Near the bed Ron's breathing had gone ragged, and Hermione was as silent as a corpse._

_And then came a new sound...muffled footsteps were echoing up through the floor...someone was moving downstairs..._

"_WE'RE UP HERE!" Hermione screamed suddenly. "WE'RE UP HERE-SIRIUS BLACK-_QUICK!"

_Sirius made a startled movement that nearly dislodged the ginger-furred cat, and even from here Lor could see the boy's grip on his wand tighten._

_The door of the room burst open in a shower of red sparks and Harry wheeled around as Remus Lupin came hurtling into the room, his face bloodless, his wand raised and ready. His eyes flickered over Ron, lying on the floor, over Hermione, cowering next to the door, to Harry, standing there with his wand covering Sirius, and then to Sirius himself, crumpled and bleeding at Harry's feet._

"Expelliarmus!" _Lupin shouted, and again Harry's wand flew out of his hand, as did the two Hermione was holding. Lupin caught them all like a Seeker catching a Golden Snitch, and then he moved into the room, staring at Sirius, who still had the giant cat lying protectively across his chest. Finally, his voice very tense, Lupin spoke._

"_Where is he, Sirius?"_

_Harry looked quickly at Lupin, not understanding, and then he turned to look back at Sirius again._

_Sirius's face was quite expressionless. For a few second, he didn't move at all. Then, very slowly, he raised his empty hand and pointed straight at Ron. Harry, clearly mystified, glanced around at his friend, who looked just as bewildered._

"_But then...," Lupin muttered, staring at Black so intently that it seemed he was trying to read the other man's mind. "...why hasn't he show himself before now. Unless-" Lupin's eyes suddenly widened, as though he was seeing something beyond his former friend, something none of the rest could see. "-unless _he _was the one...unless you switched...without telling me?"_

_Very slowly, his sunken gaze never leaving Lupin's face, Sirius Black nodded._

"_Professor," Harry interrupted loudly. "What's going on-?"_

_Harry did not finish his sentence, his voice going mute as Lupin lowered his wand, gazing fixedly at Sirius. Remus walked to Sirius's side, seized his hand, pulled him to his feet so that the cat fell to the floor, and embraced him like a brother._

"_I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Hermione screamed. Lupin let go of Sirius and turned to her. The young witch had raised herself off of the floor and was pointing at Lupin, wild-eyed. "You-you-"_

"_Hermione-"_

"_-you and him!"_

"_Hermione, calm down-"_

"_I didn't tell anyone!" Hermione shrieked. "I've been covering up for you-"_

"_Hermione, listen to me, please." Lupin shouted. "I can explain-"_

"_I trusted you," Harry shouted at Lupin, his voice wavering out of control. "And all this time you've been his friend!"_

"_You're wrong." Said Lupin. "I haven't been Sirius's friend, but I am now-let me explain..."_

"_NO!" Hermione screamed. "Harry, don't trust him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too-_he's a werewolf!"

_There was a ripping silence. Everyone's eyes were on Lupin, who looked remarkably calm, though rather pale._

"_Not at all up to your usual standards, Hermione." He said. "Only one out of three, I'm afraid. I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle and I certainly don't want Harry dead..." An odd shiver passed over his face. "But I won't deny that I am a werewolf."_

_Ron made a valiant effort to get up again but fell back with a whimper of pain. Lupin made toward him, looking concerned, but Ron gasped._

"Get away from me, werwolf!"

_Lupin stopped dead. Then, with an obvious effort, he turned to Hermione and said, "How long have you known?"_

"_Ages." Hermione whispered. "Since I did Professor Snape's essay..."_

"_He'll be delighted." Said Lupin coolly. "He assigned that essay hoping someone would realize what my symptoms meant...did you check the lunar chart and realize I was always ill at the full moon? Or did you realize that the boggart changed into the moon when it saw me?"_

"_Both." Hermione said quietly. Lupin forced a laugh._

"_You're the cleverest witch of your age I've ever met, Hermione."_

"_I'm not." Hermione whispered. "If I'd been a bit cleverer, I'd have told everyone what you are!"_

"_But they already know," Said Lupin. "At least, the staff do."_

"_Dumbledore hired you when he knew you were a werewolf?" Ron gasped. "Is he mad?"_

"_Some of the staff thought so," Said Lupin. "He had to work very hard to convince certain teachers that I'm trustworthy-"_

"_AND HE WAS WRONG!" Harry yelled. "YOU'VE BEEN HELPING HIM ALL THE TIME!" He was pointing at Sirius, who suddenly crossed to the four-poster bed and sunk onto it, his face hidden in one shaking hand. The giant cat leapt up beside him and stepped onto his lap, purring. Ron edged away from both of them, dragging his leg._

"_I have _not _been helping Sirius." Lupin said. "If you'll give me a chance, I'll explain. Look-"_

_He separated the three students' wands and tossed each back to its rightful owner._

"_There," Lupin said, quickly stowing his own wand. "You're armed, we're not. Now will you listen?"_

Lor watched the scene unfold, silent as she stood next to Sirius and Lupin, who were also quiet as they watched themselves in the scene unfolding before them.

The trio listened quietly as Lupin explained to Harry, Ron, and Hermione that he'd seen Peter and Sirius on the Marauder's Map, and that he was one of the map's writers, Moony. They continued to listen as Sirius explained what had led him to realize that Ron's pet rat, Scabbers, was in fact the supposedly-dead wizard, Peter Pettigrew, and on they listened as Lupin began explaining about how the Whomping Willow and Shrieking Shack had been designed to protect the school's population from him during his transformations and how James, Sirius, and Peter had become unregistered animagi to help their afflicted friend.

She watched in horror as Severus Snape barged in, prepared to hand a man who was possibly innocent over to the dementors for a fate worse than death, and in relief she watched as her godson, Hermione, and Ron turned their wands on Snape, knocking him out with their combined attacks.

And then it happened. Her head suddenly felt light as a feather and her knees began to buckle; only through sheer will did Lor force herself to remain standing as she watched Sirius and Lupin force the rat, Scabbers, to resume his original identity as Peter Pettigrew. Lor continued to watch the scene unfold, her heart beginning to rise as she realized what this memory implied...

"_You sold Lily and James to Voldemort," Sirius said, shaking furiously. "Do you deny it?"_

_Pettigrew burst into tears. It was horrible to watch, like an oversized, balding baby, cowering on the floor._

"_Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord...you have no idea...he has weapons you can't imagine...I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you and Remus and James. I never meant it to happen...He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named forced me-"_

"_DON'T LIE!" Sirius bellowed. "YOU'D BEEN PASSING INFORMATION TO HIM FOR A YEAR BEFORE LILY AND JAMES DIED! YOU WERE HIS SPY!"_

"_He-he was taking over everywhere!" Peter gasped. "Wh-what was there to be gained by refusing him?"_

"_What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed?" Sirius asked with a terrible fury in his face. "Only innocent lives, Peter!"_

"_You don't understand." whined Pettigrew. "He would have killed me, Sirius!"_

"_THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!" Roared Sirius. "DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!"_

_Sirius and Lupin stood, shoulder-to-shoulder, wands raised._

"_You should have realized," Said Lupin quietly. "If Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Good-bye, Peter."_

Unable to believe what she'd witnessed, Lor pulled her face from the Pensive, and, turning to face Sirius, she nodded, a single tear falling down her cheek as she offered him his wand. She knew memories could be faked, but the process to do so was strenuous, and it took a small chunk of time...she knew Sirius was now as innocent as Lupin was.

"I hope," She began slowly, choosing her words carefully. "That in time you can both forgive me for not trusting you."

"It's okay," Sirius said, clapping a hand on her shoulder. "We already have."

"What happened to Peter? Did you two kill him?"

Lupin shook his head as the trio exited Kitch's room. "Harry refused to let us."

"He what?" Lor asked, not sure if she'd heard him right.

"He decided Peter could take my place in Azkaban." Sirius explained. "But Moony forgot his potion, and after we got back above ground the full moon came out."

"I transformed, Sirius stopped me from hurting Harry and the others, but Peter transformed and escaped once more; God only knows where he's at now."

"In other words only eight people alive know the truth; the three of us, Ron, Harry, Hermione, Peter, and Voldemort."

"Nine." Lupin corrected. "Dumbledore knows the truth."

"And speaking of Dumbledore," Lor said, stopping dead in her tracks, for there, in her kitchen, standing calmly with a smile on his face, was Albus Dumbledore.

"Professor, sir," Lor hastily stammered. "I didn't hear you call; I'm surprised Skipper or Razor-"

"I asked your House-Elf not to disturb you." Dumbledore said kindly. "I half expected you needed to learn the truth about...certain events."

"Is there any way we can prove Sirius is innocent?" Lor asked. "Surely, between Harry, Ron, Hermione, Remus, myself, and Sirius's memory-"

"Memories can be forged." Dumbledore responded gently. "And the voice of an American necromancer, a werewolf, and three underage sorcerers will do very little to sway the Ministry of Magic. For now, Sirius, I am afraid you must remain in hiding."

Lor knew her friend well enough to know that the very last thing he wanted was to run and hide while Peter Pettigrew was still at large, but as he nodded his head she also understood that he knew that this was his best option.

"Lor, I do not wish to intrude upon your hospitality for too long, so I think it best if I get straight to the point. Would you be inclined to take up a post at Hogwarts next term?"

"Sir?" Lor asked, blinking rapidly in surprise. "You want me to replace Remus as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?"

Dumbledore, however, shook his head.

"The Ministry of Magic is working to bring back the Triwizard Tournament next term, a legendary, dangerous event. I wish to begin offering the students of Hogwarts classes in healing magic…something, I fear, we are lacking a great deal in when it comes to the magical education of our students."

"Of course." Lor said immediately, not hesitating. "It would be my honor, sir."

"And Remus, I understand your reason for resigning." Dumbledore said kindly, looking down at Lupin over his half-moon spectacles. "However, I want you to know there will always be a place for you at Hogwarts; all you must do is ask."

"Thank you, sir, but I don't wish to endanger the students any more than I already have."

Dumbledore nodded.

"Professor," Lor added on a sudden inspiration. "My son, Kitch, he has…well…a…umm…sensitive matter he's trying to bring before the International-"

"Ah, yes." Dumbledore interrupted kindly. "The matter of freeing his father from the confines of Lusankya Prison. I must admit I am most curious as to his motivations behind such a move. When the Confederation meets in the coming month I will ensure that it is given all due consideration."

"Thank you, sir, I appreciate that."

"Of course, my dear Lor. I apologize for talking and running, but I must be going. I shall see you, _Professor_ Grant, on the first of September."

Lor nodded, and once Dumbledore was gone she sighed and turned to her two friends.

"Come on Sirius, let's grab some dinner; I'm starving and I'm sure you are too; we'll get you cleaned up before you continue onto your next hiding place; we all have a lot to catch up on."

* * *

><p>As the afternoon sun began its descent towards the western horizon, Kitch Grant was sitting in front of a goal hoop fifty feet above the air, mounted on his black and blue Nimbus 2001 so stiffly that he seemed to be a statue made of stone.<p>

A lot had happened over the past few months. As he had declared early that morning, three months ago, he'd began the long trek towards freeing his father, formerly the Dread Lord Imperious, from the American fortress prison of Lusankya, where he'd been imprisoned since the very day Kitch himself had been born, imprisoned for creating an organization called the Black Suns, an organization that had nearly taken over the United States before the defeat of the Dread Lord at the hands of his wife, Kitch's mother, Lor Grant. That same group, however, had returned only three months before, killing all but six of the hundreds of occupants of the Gulf Academy of Magical Education, Kitch and his friends, Elianna, Tabitha, and Duran among them.

Also as predicted, the U.S. Ministry of Magic, which had become increasingly hostile since Kitch's open declaration that they had openly lied and misled the American magical community about the true events surrounding the end of what was being called the Black Sun Rebellion, was fighting his attempts to get his father freed from the prison he now called home. They'd refused to even listen to his plea, to give him a proper hearing and forum in which to present his case, and they'd also stopped all of his visits and communications with his redeemed father, citing that they believed he may now be a security risk.

He'd then tried to take his case to each of the three American seats of the International Confederation of Wizards, and one-by-one each had turned him down, claiming that not only would they not bother the highest authority of wizards with such a one-sided waste of time but that, as Kitch now lived in Britain, he had no right to bring his request before them.

On that note he'd then begun trying to push it through the British Seats of the ICW, and while they were much more receptive, per say, they were still forcing him to proceed through the proper channels at a painstakingly slow rate…the way it looked now, by the time his case made it through to the International Confederation of Wizards he'd be grown with a family of his own…

So deep into his thoughts, Kitch was, that he only noticed the coming Quaffle as it streaked by his head, nearly grazing him as it entered the goal hoop he was supposed to be guarding.

"COME ON GRANT!" Duran bellowed in anger. "YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE TRYING TO KEEP THE QUAFFLE _OUT _OF THE GOAL! DAMN BOY!"

"Kitch?" Elianna asked softly, her and her new Firebolt, the present both Brawley and Bethesda had gotten her for her birthday three months ago, appearing quite suddenly out of midair. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah." He answered absently, not bothering to meet his dirty-blonde-haired girlfriend's deep sapphire eyes, which were hidden behind new, rectangular pink-rimmed glasses. "I'm just…thinking again."

"Now see, Kitch, I told you about doing that." Duran explained, approaching the pair on his own broomstick, his pale skin seeming to shine in the afternoon sun. "I've told you, thinking isn't your strong suit…it hurts you _way _too much to do you any good."

"I'm afraid Jessica might be right: my attempts to free dad from Lusankya Prison may be just the dreams of a foolish child."

"Ain't no 'might be' about it." Duran snorted. "Once a bastard always a bastard, Kitch. No matter what happens, a leopard can't change its spots."

"Duran has a point." Dark-Skinned Tabitha Harding added as she joined her friends, her black hair hanging down her back in tight braids and dreadlocks. "But, still, you can't haul up the white flag simply because of a bunch of political wimps who want to remind you of your place. There are three types of people in this world, Kitch: those who kiss ass to get ahead, those who do nothing and either stay where they are and go backwards, and those who bust nuts and bash in skulls to claw ahead."

"Nicely put, Tabitha." Raven Grant, the youngest of his older sisters said, the final person to join the group. Her jet black hair, which hung in loose threads down her shoulders, was a stark contrast to the brown hair her brother and other two sisters sported. "Now, decide which of the groups you claim and let's get back to playing some _kriffin' _Qudditch: I didn't postpone my next bounty just to gush out some emotional garbage like some kind of pansy."

"You know," Shouted out a new voice Kitch had never before heard. "Playing the position of Keeper usually requires you to catch the Quaffle _before _it goes through the goal post.

Looking down towards the ground, the young wizard saw another young male who appeared to be his age, standing inside of the empty paddock-turned-pitch as he looked up at the huddled group.

"Well," Raven sighed. "We'll pick this game up later; I have a bounty to collect on. Duran, you up for an adventure?"

"Sure, why not? Can't ever have enough gold."

As his sister and Duran shot off back towards the manor they all now called home, Kitch turned his broom into a lazy dive, descending down towards their uninvited spectator. Wearing black pants and a black shirt with shorter-than-average sleeves, the boy, Kitch noted quickly, appeared to be built along an ancient Greek-like scale, especially his face, though his skin was just a touch too pale to be fully Greek. His body made him appear lithe and athletic, and what skin Kitch could see looked to be pretty well toned. His hair looked ruffled, just a couple of shades away from being black…making it, in some spots, appear gray, and his eyes, a bright, glacial blue color, looked keen, studious, and slightly predatory. As he approached ever closer to the teen, he could make out a bright scar on the boy's lip, so white and transparent that it at first appeared to be only a speck of food left over from a previous meal.

"And you are?" Kitch asked as he touched down, quickly dismounting his broom and approaching the young teen.

"Daemon Black." He answered, not offering his hand towards Kitch or either of the two girls who now flanked him.

"You live in the house down the way, don't you?" Elianna asked, receiving a nod from the boy.

"Kitch Grant, you may be an adolescent hero, but you're a lousy Quidditch Keeper."

"How do you know my name?" Kitch asked, unable to help the suspicion creeping into his voice.

"The _Global Inquisitor._" He explained. "My aunt's a subscriber. I recognize all three of you; you survived that massacre last spring on that American school. Yup, I reckon you seem powerful enough, but still, mate, you make one _lousy _Keeper."

"So you've mentioned." Tabitha muttered, unable to help herself.

"You play?" Kitch asked.

"Sure do: I'm Keeper for my school team."

"Hogwarts, right?"

"Only magical school in all of Britain." The boy answered back. "I've seen you two before." He added, looking from Tabitha to Elianna. "You were in the cemetery during Professor Grant's lesson back in March."

"Cemetery?" Kitch asked, turning to face Elianna. "What cemetery?"

"The day you were captured, your mom was filling in for the professor of Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts class." Elianna explained. "She brought a class to the cemetery in those woods there to show them, and Tabs and me, what necromancy looks like."

"Gee, the one day mom decides to show off her necromancy I get captured." Kitch sighed. "So then, Daemon, _why _are you here?"

"My aunt told me we had new neighbors and I decided to come check you out."

"Come check us out?" Tabitha repeated, her eyebrows raised.

"I wanted to confirm if you'd be magical or muggle, allies or foes, assets or threats. A smart wizard knows who lives around him."

"Not a bad bit of advice." Kitch conceded. "Let me know when you reach your decision, will ya?"

"You won't attack or harm me as long as you have no reason to." Daemon answered back with a shrug of his shoulders. "You, Kitch Grant, and Elianna Kasumi, you both believe the best of people you first meet, and you both believe you're a good judge of character. You, on the other hand," He moved on, turning to look at Tabitha. "Don't trust anyone until they give you reason to. You naturally believe the worst in people, alienating yourself from most of your peers."

"Not bad." Kitch approved. "But how do you know this, exactly?"

"Easy." Daemon answered. "Neither you nor your girlfriend appear in anyway inclined to curse me. Tabitha Harding, on the other hands, looks like she wants nothing more than to hex me for being here. In addition, according to past issues of the _Global Inquisitor,_ you believe the Dread Lord Imperious has been redeemed, telling me that you believe redemption's always possible, no matter how far you fall."

"It _is _possible." Kitch answered back, recalling his own flirts with the Dark Side. "All one must want is to be redeemed, to make up for what he or she's done in the past."

"Perhaps." Daemon allowed. "I, however, believe that once you go evil there's no going back, not truly. Some taints, some stains, never wear off. Take the woods, for example, those that border the far side of your property. Those woods are tainted; it's so powerful I can taste it."

"What are you talking about?" Kitch asked, eyeing the boy suspiciously.

"Almost a hundred years ago a warlock went dark, and these woods were his home. He kidnapped young children, both magical and muggle, and did the most hideous things we can think of to them. He raped them, molested them, experimented on them with the darkest of magic…some eve say he ate some of them. Those woods still carry the taint he created, even though it's been nearly a hundred years since the Ministry stopped his reign of terror by killing him. Perhaps he never did leave those woods…"

"Yeah, and I'm the Minister of Magic too-"

"He may have a point." Elianna interrupted. "In the short time we were in there, I too felt something dark and powerful, something very much real."

"So did I." Tabitha added.

"You ever explore those woods?" Kitch asked. Daemon, in turn, laughed.

"Alone? Merlin's Beard no! Those woods are a place you don't want to be caught alone, day or night. Weird things happen to people who go into those woods…people still come up missing, even today."

"Okay, then, let's go explore those woods." Kitch suggested it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Are you barking?" Daemon asked, looking at Kitch like an adult might a child who'd just asked an obviously stupid question. "This late in the afternoon?"

"Tomorrow, then." He corrected. We'll meet at the edge of the woods at dawn and spend all day exploring them.

"Okay." Daemon agreed, clearly relieved they were waiting until tomorrow. "Make sure you pack up accordingly: it'll be disadvantageous for us to have to keep coming back for this or that."

"Any suggestions on what we should bring?"

"Yeah." Daemon said. "Use your brains; that's what they're there for, after all." And without speaking another word, Daemon Black turned and walked away, not looking back once, Kitch and his two friends watching until the boy's figure had disappeared from view.

"That was one weird boy." Tabitha muttered once he was gone from view.

"I don't know: he kind of reminded me of Pax." Elianna said, referring to the friend they'd lost during the massacre on GAME Island, a friend whom, Kitch had learned, was, in truth, his long-lost half-brother.

"What?" Tabitha asked, spinning on Elianna. "How?"

"He accurately described us simply by observing us, something Pax was able to do, and he sounded just as smart and superstitious too, just like Pax was. And did you see his eyes?"

"They kind of reminded me a predator." Kitch confessed as he and his friends began walking back towards Savannah Hill manor. "Cunning, ruthless, studious, analytical, and hungry."

Kitch turned his thoughts inwards, allowing his mind to continue recalling the meeting with Daemon Black. There had been something, Kitch would admit only to himself, something deep inside of the boy's eyes, something that had given Kitch an impression that he wasn't to be fully trusted, that he had perhaps, in fact, maneuvered Kitch into suggesting a day-long exploration of those woods…

"You're home early." A woman's voice greeted as Daemon entered the small, cozy cottage that he'd called home all his life. "Where'd you go?"

"Met our new neighbors."

"Oh?" The woman asked, her voice coming from the direction of the kitchen. "What'd you think?"

"The boy, Kitch Grant, is powerful enough; once he's fully grown he may be a terrifying enemy or an advantageous ally. His girlfriend, Elianna Kasumi, may be a mudblood-"

"Watch your tone, young man." The woman warned.

"But she's powerful too, as is their other friend, Tabitha Harding. They're powerful, yeah, but they're also typical heroes-in-the-making, with all the weakness that come with it. His mother, Professor Grant, on the other hand, may be too powerful to handle-"

"For the last time, Daemon, stop it!" His aunt barked as he entered the kitchen. Tall and thick, she'd likely been beautiful at one time, but now her extra weight had reduced her to more of a cute girl-down-the road type of witch. Her hair, the exact same color as Daemon's own, fell freely past her shoulders, her gray eyes watching the meal on which she was now working.

"Stop what?" He asked innocently, feigning innocence.

"Collecting information for that demented cousin of ours!" She explained, sounding exasperated. "She's in Azkaban, now, and she'll stay in there until the day she dies, so give it up. You-Know-Who's been gone for thirteen years, likely dead, and the sooner you realize that the better off we'll both be."

"I dunno." Daemon answered. "Perhaps the Dark Lord was onto something with his plans for a new world order."

And ignoring his aunt's outraged reply, he made his way through the house to his bedroom, and upon entering that room he pressed against one of his walls, forcing the wall to swing around, admitting him into a hidden room beyond his room.

This room would have fit into any muggle spy novel. Newspaper clippings and photos, both wizarding and muggle, lined the walls, and, looking into the newspaper face of Kitch Grant, Daemon got hard to work piecing together the truth about who his new neighbors really were, smiling as he imagined the day he might get to hand this information over.

* * *

><p>She smiled as she reread the small roll of parchment, pleased with the work she'd accomplished in three short months.<p>

"You're sure this is him?" She asked the man sitting across the table, who in turn nodded his head.

"Positive." The man answered. "Though she'll never remember so, she told me everything about her short-lived affair with him."

She snorted. "Consorting with a muggle by whom he then has a child by. Such a disgrace to the purity of magical blood everywhere. Where does he live when he's out of school?"

"A small town in southern England." He answered. "He lives with his muggle mother."

"Indeed."

"Shall I go with you, my lady?"

"Not at all." She said, raising her wand. _"Obliviate."_

And as the man's eyes slid out of focus and his head slumped to the table, she stood up, silently walking out of the small home as she pulled the cowl of her cloak up over her head.

For three months now she had searched, stopping not once in her hunt for answers, never surrendering her goal of mastering the Dark Side. And, though she still had so very much to learn, she had a basic idea of what her plans now were, and the first thing she needed, as she constantly reminded herself, was an apprentice, a protégé who would not only learn from her but help her learn the darkest of all secrets, including the path to true immortality and invincibility.

Beneath the hood of her cloak, Izumi Tatsu smiled.

* * *

><p><strong>And so there you have it, the end of Chapter One. So, what'd you guys think?<strong>

**Yes, I know it seems to be getting off to a slow start, but this chapter was really just to get us eased into the coming story, because believe me, it's going to be a doozy of a story, yes, very much indeed.**

**Now, the Demon mentioned in the Dramatis Personae at the beginning, Sithis...that's a name I took from the _Elder Scrolls: Oblivion_ and as such belongs to Bethesda Game Studios, not me. I will be taking the storyline involving Sithis in a direction similiar to what we see in _Oblivion_, but I will also be adding in some key elements from the Sith of the _Star Wars _Universe, in particular Darth Bane's Rule of Two, which states that there should only ever be two Sith Lords at a time: **a master to embody power, and a student to crave it. When the student felt he/she had learned all the master had to teach, they rose up and killed the master, and then they found an apprentice of their own and the cycle continues. If the student failed they weren't worth the mantle of Dark Lord of the Sith and so the master found a new apprentice and again the cycle continued.

**As such, _Star Wars _belongs not to me but to George Lucas.**

**Now, I'd like to sooth any readers who are now afraid that I may be going too far into left field on this one. I will be keeping this very much in tune with the _Harry Potter _books. There will be no lightsabers, and though I do plan on introducing a few known Force abilities later on, they will be re-worked simply as advanced forms of magic, both wandless and wand-used. Again, this will not be a cross-over between _Harry Potter _and _Oblivion _or _Harry Potter _and _Star Wars_, so relax. It's merely me playing in the alternate world J.K. Rowling first created all those years ago and simply adding a few other ideas I thought might fit in nicely. After all, as much as I love the _Harry Potter _series, I believe she still left out a lot of information and various arts in the magical realm, information and arts I plan on expanding on some during this storyline while sticking to her original storyline and information.**

**I don't really know why I decided to go with Sirius visiting Lor following his flight from Hogwarts, but, given the information I gave on them during _The Sins of the Father _I thought it might be warranted.**

**In addition, as there is very little information that I can find on the structure and operation of the International Confederation of Wizards, I will be winging it as I go, using a mixture of what I know about official settings of that sort, the United Nations, and the Ministry of Magic to make it work for this storyline.**

**So, what, exactly, do you think Daemon Black is up to? What do you believe he's going to end up doing? Any idea to the cousin he has in Azkaban? Anyone got any thoughts as to his parentage? Hmm...I suppose only time can tell, huh?**

**And what is Izumi Tatsu up to? Who is she looking for in southern England? Perhaps...hmm...nah, better not spoil it. **

**Well, until next time...**


	2. The Temple of Doom

**Okay, I'm sorry it's taken a full week to update this next chapter, but there were a few times I got Writer's Block and had to work around it. But, here were are, with a whole new chapter just as long, ****Also, _Harry Potter _belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me, so don't even ask. Now, on with the show...**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Two: The Temple of Doom<strong>_

(**Location:** Dark Woods, northern England}

[Monday, 4 July, 1994 A.D.]

(0800; 08:00 a.m.)

With the sun finally emerging over the eastern horizon, giving the promise of a day full of nothing but its hot, brilliant light, the small group of four teenagers moved through the dense undergrowth of what Daemon Black had told them was called the Dark Woods, a name, he'd said, they'd been given following the dark wizard's rampage over one hundred years before.

Lush, green trees of virtually every kind surrounded them on all sides as they continued walking deeper and deeper into the woods, the ground continuing to lose altitude as they walked.

Kitch, Elianna, Tabitha, and their new acquaintance, Daemon, had been on the move since before dawn that morning, almost three hours ago. Kitch and the two girls who now lived with him and his family had packed everything they could think of, including several bottles of water, a small supply of food, a chance of clothes each, and, at Elianna's insistence, four devices muggles called flashlights, in addition to several ropes and a muggle first aid kit, all of which, to their surprise, Elianna had readily available in her room. When Kitch had asked her about this, she'd merely shrugged her shoulders, saying that her family had taken her camping when she was younger and that, given the fact that, following the end of the Black Sun threat, they were once more prohibited from using magic outside of school, these muggle tools may come in handy. Daemon, upon hearing of her logic, had been very pleased, saying that she was using her brains more so than either of her friends had been when they'd packed. In addition, he, Elianna, and Tabitha had each agreed to bring the weapons Pax Onasi had left them in his will three months ago. None of them had yet to learn how to adequately use their individual weapons, but they'd still agreed that, with them now unable to use magic, it would be better to have some kind of means to defend themselves, even if it was something they'd never before learned.

As he thought on it, Kitch suddenly felt as though his back was reaching the verge where it may soon snap. When they'd first started off for the Dark Woods, he'd not thought of all he was carrying as being that heavy, but now, even dressed in a simple blue muggle shirt and a pair of brown shorts with thin socks under his trainers, only a few hours into the trek he now found himself drenched in sweat and sorely in need of some kind of relief.

In front of him, Elianna also appeared to be drenched in her sweat as well. He could see the wet marks along the back of her pink shirt, her legs, which were sticking out of white shorts, also dripping with moisture. She had a wet, red rag of some kind tied loosely around her neck, and her long, dirty blonde hair was tied up into a loose ponytail with a piece of simple cloth, while her pink glasses were resting loosely on the bridge of her nose.

Tabitha, who was keeping pace alongside Kitch, looked at home, beads of sweat rolling down her chocolate skin as she walked, and though her yellow shirt and black shorts were drenched with sweat as well, the bare-foot teen appeared to be suffering none under the conditions.

"Okay," Daemon called from up front as they entered a small clearing with a nice, thickly-flowing creek dividing it in half. "Let's stop for a few minutes and catch our breaths, yeah?"

"Sounds okay with me." Kitch agreed as he approached a massive, felled log, instantly shedding the backpack and assorted gear he'd been persuaded into carrying earlier that morning as he took a seat on the edge of the once-proud tree.

"So, Daemon," Elianna said as the rest of the group joined Kitch on the tree a moment later, each also shedding the gear they'd carried. "Tell us more about yourself."

"Now why would I want to do that?" He asked, taking a short sip from his bottle of water.

"Why _wouldn't_ you?" Tabitha countered.

"Because, even with all of our magical knowledge, even as far as muggles think they've come in the noble art of warfare, the greatest weapon to ever exist is also the oldest."

"Yeah, thanks for clearing that little bit of confusion up." Kitch retorted, taking his own drink of water. "I mean, that just _totally_ answered my question."

"Information, Tabs." Elianna explained. "If you know someone then you know their strengths and their weaknesses, thus allowing you to know how best to harm, or help, them as you see fit."

"You're pretty smart…for a muggle-born." Daemon said what he obviously felt was a compliment, but all it did was cause Elianna's face to flush while Kitch and Tabitha turned to give him glares in which they made it perfectly clear what they thought.

"What's being muggle-born have to do with anything?" Tabitha challenged, her voice dangerous in a way Kitch knew Daemon would not pick up on as her friends did.

"What does being muggle-born have to do with anything?" Daemon repeated. "Why, everything of course."

"Just _kriffin' _lovely." Kitch growled, standing up. "Naturally, it's our luck that we have to come across a boy who subscribes to the whole pureblood mania garbage. Come on girls, let's head back and find something better to do with our time…"

"And that's how it always goes." Daemon cut in. "You meet someone who doesn't share your views, someone you don't quite understand, so rather than get to know them better and gain a better understanding of them and their points-of-view, you run off and hide like cowards, convincing yourself that that someone just isn't worth your time. It's an amazing feat in and of itself that people like you ever learn and grow to begin with."

"Yeah?" Kitch asked, stepping forward to challenge the boy as he too stood up, not backing down from the challenge Kitch was presenting. "What could there possibly be to understand about what you said about those who are muggle-born? You, like all the other pureblood-obsessed out there, believe that being muggle-born automatically means you're not worthy of carrying a wand, that you're a second-rate citizen or something."

"And thus you show just how stupid and foolish you really are."

"What'd you just say?" Kitch asked, suddenly feeling very annoyed by this boy.

"I never said that being a mudblood means you're not worthy of carrying a wand. Perhaps, had you allowed me the courtesy of finishing my sentence, you'd have realized what it was I _really _meant."

"Yeah?" Tabitha asked, joining in. "What'd that be?"

"Magic flows through our bodies as freely as blood. It is passed down from generation to generation, and with each generation it becomes more powerful, more refined, so that wizards who come from all-wizarding families are more powerful, inherently, than those who are the first of their bloodlines to be magical."

"That's not true at all." Kitch countered. "I may be better with offensive magic than Elianna or Tabby, but Elianna's way better at simple spells than I am, and Tabby-"

"We all have our areas of strength and weakness." Daemon corrected. "I'm merely speaking of overall natural magical talents. There is a difference, after all, on how strong a wizard's inherent powers are and how strong his developed powers are."

"Okay, now I'm really confused." Kitch admitted.

"Of course you are," Daemon muttered. "Your mind's being clouded by biased prejudice, emotions, and thought."

"_Anyways," _Elianna interrupted, at last deciding it was time to break up the argument. "Since Daemon doesn't want to talk about himself, why don't you tell us more about Hogwarts."

"Well," Daemon began, returning to his seat, him and Kitch still glaring at one another. "There are four houses-"

"Houses?" Tabitha interrupted, sitting back down as well. "What are Houses?"

"Dormitories." Elianna answered. "Think along the lines of GAME Island's squads, only larger and broader."

"Oh."

"There's Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and Gryffindor-"

"My mom was in Gryffindor." Kitch added, suddenly remembering how he'd first found out about his mother's past.

"What's the difference?" Elianna asked politely.

"Ravenclaw is where they put the students who are wise, intelligent, clever, and smart. Hufflepuff are the commoners, the ones who are patient, loyal and hardworking. Slytherin students are, on average, darker, cunning and ruthless, willing do whatever it takes to achieve their goals…they believe the ends justify the means. Slytherin House has turned out more Dark Wizards than any other house."

"And Gryffindor House?" Kitch asked.

"Gryffindor values courage and bravery above all else. Their daring, nerve, and chivalry are among their greatest traits."

"And which house are you in?" Elianna pressed.

"Wait, let me guess." Kitch interrupted suddenly. "Your attitude, beliefs, and overall appearance would make you…Slytherin, right?"

"Guess again." Daemon said, his voice dropping so low that Kitch and the two girls had to strain just to hear it. "Just because I'm analytical, suspicious, and stick by my beliefs doesn't automatically mean I'm in Slytherin. Bloody hell, since when was it impossible to have the traits of multiple houses?"

"You'll have to forgive Kitch, Daemon." Elianna answered, casting a glance of warning in her boyfriend's direction.

"I'm in Ravenclaw." Daemon muttered, now looking down at the ground, determined not to meet any of their eyes. "The first person in my family to ever go into Ravenclaw and one of the few to ever avoid Slytherin. I'm too cunning and smart for the likes of that bunch, and I'm proud of it-"

"I'm gonna go fill our bottles up with more water." Elianna declared suddenly, standing up and collecting their bottles. "Kitch, why don't you come help?"

"Nah, I think I'll just sit right here where it's-"

"It wasn't a request." She cut in, her voice steely and stern in a way he'd almost never heard before.

"Yeah, okay then." He answered, getting up and taking some of the bottles from her hand. Together, moving in silence, the pair took off for the stream off in the distance. Now well enough out of earshot of Tabitha and Daemon, Elianna knelt down, and as Kitch did the same they spilled the eight bottles out along the ground.

"Kitch, you need to back off some, okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"Daemon. We met him not even twenty-four hours ago and you're already treating him like he's the Dread Lord's spawn."

Kitch snorted. "He sure acts like it."

Elianna said nothing but instead gave him a look that made it very clear what she was thinking at the moment.

"What?" He asked defensively. "I was only-"

"No you weren't, Kitch, so don't even go there." She countered just as sternly as ever. "What've you got against him, anyways?"

He opened his mouth to say something, but paused, considering on how best to answer her question and whether or not he should tell her the true reason about why he didn't trust their new 'acquaintance'.

"Something seems off." He answered finally, sighing. "I-I get this funny little feeling in the back of my head every single time he opens his mouth, like there's more to him than what we know, like he's not telling us everything. My brain and heart tell me he only needs a good friend or two, but my guts tell me he's up to something, that every time he looks at us he's analyzing all three of us in case he has to act against us in the future, like maybe he has a hidden agenda by exploring these woods with us."

Elianna opened her mouth to speak but instead closed it and frowned, looking down at the ground and closing her eyes as though asking some unseen power for help…which, Kitch thought, given her devout Christian beliefs, she just may very well be doing that.

"Look, Elianna, I know it sounds stupid and prejudiced, but my instincts are sending up red flags with almost everything he says and does. After what happened in March, I've learned to listen more to them than I used to."

Elianna, in turn, nodded her head. "I trust you, Kitch, and your instincts have served you well in the past. Still, back off some. Get to know him better, show him the kindness I know is really you, and extend to him the hand of friendship your brain and heart think he needs. Keep an eye on him, sure, and listen to your instincts, but make sure that those instincts aren't being clouded by a judgmental, biased mind before you act on them."

"And if it turns out I'm right?" He asked. "If he really is up to something?"

"As mama likes to say, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Until then, however, we move forward as though he's a friend."

"I suppose I _was _being a little foolish and prejudiced." Kitch admitted moments later, their task now done. "I mean, I don't think I'd trust the son of Voldemort if the roles were reversed here."

"There's the Kitch Grant I know." She muttered, smiling as she reached over and kissed his cheek. Kitch, who was now facing back towards Tabitha and Daemon, knew something was wrong the moment Elianna froze, her eyes going wide as her lips touched his skin.

"Eli?" He asked, willing himself to remain calm and not swing around. "What-"

"I-imposs-impossible." She muttered, her voice crackling with fear. "T-that c-can't be-"

"Something's behind me, isn't it?" He asked, and with a slow nod of her head that fear was confirmed.

"What-"

Elianna, however, shook her head as though she refused to answer, like perhaps she didn't quite believe what her eyes were telling her. Unable to take it anymore, Kitch turned around slowly, keeping himself between his girlfriend and whatever it was that had her so frightened…only to set his eyes on something he knew ought to be impossible.

Across the clearing, standing well over two stories tall, banana-sized teeth-filled mouth open as it studied its prey, the eyes of the Dinosaur King, the Tyrant Lizard, was locked onto either Kitch or Elianna, and there was very little doubt as to what was on its allegedly extinct mind.

"Thundering Thestrals! Umm…guys!" Kitch yelled, slowly backing away from the monster, grabbing Elianna's hands in the process so that she'd do the same.

"Kitch?" Tabitha answered back, her voice telling him that she'd caught on that something was wrong. "What-"

"Get our stuff ready." He cut off, still backing towards his friends.

"What?" Tabitha asked, sounding too far away to properly see the animal that was once again stalking the planet. "Why?"

"Because," He growled, still hoping that he and Elianna were merely having the same hallucination. "We're not alone."

"Really?" Daemon asked, the sound of running footsteps echoing from behind him, telling Kitch that their neighbor was moving forward to join him and Elianna. "Who-" The footsteps fell silent. "GALLOPING GARGOYLES!"

The extinct-for-sixty-five-million-years Tyrannosaurus Rex took a step forward.

"Blast it." Kitch barked. "Run!"

The teens moved forward for the equipment they'd brought with them, but even as they approached the log they'd been sitting on moments before, an earth-shattering roar bellowed out from behind them, and, thinking as he moved, Kitch grabbed Elianna's arm and forced her to turn to the left.

"There's no time!" He shouted, no longer interested in anything other than escape. "We'll never make it…into the woods, NOW!"

Not needing to be told twice, Daemon, Tabitha, and Elianna followed Kitch as he raced for the thick safety of the Dark Woods' undergrowth, where they'd be better able to avoid the predator with an empty stomach.

As they exploded back into the woods, the sound of thundering footsteps and another hungry roar filled the air behind them, pushing the teenagers to greater heights. Up ahead, grown over, sat another, much smaller clearing. As they arrived at the clearing, Kitch noticed a small cave, just large enough for the four of them to fit and more than small enough to protect them from the Tyrannosaurus Rex now wanting to claim them for dinner. To the left, in turn, was a narrow path that led back into the undergrowth of the woods, and up ahead, just barely noticeable, was what appeared to be a great drop off.

"Go left!" He shouted, turning towards the cave. "We'll be safe-"

"No!" Daemon countered. "Go forward, over the edge!"

"What?" Kitch roared. "Are you nuts?"

"We'll be trapped in that cave. If we don't get eaten we'll die of exposure, starvation, or dehydration."

"Why not go right-"

"It'll keep chasing us. It'll think twice before going over a cliff edge!"

"Yeah?" Kitch asked, following both Elianna and Tabitha as they complied with Daemon's orders. "Well _I'm _thinking twice about-"

His sentence, however, was cut off as he found his feet suddenly had no ground beneath them. His scream, mixed with those of his three friends, filled the air as he spiraled helplessly to the ground, fighting a losing battle to get to his wand, though no spell he knew could possibly hope to-

His brain was emptied of all thought, however, as he connected with solid earth once more. However, while his body did explode into a frenzy of pain, common, he knew from experience, with falling from a great height, he was still not only alive but as his brain did a mental check of his body it appeared nothing was broken either.

"Everybody okay?" He asked, forcing himself back onto his feet. Though silent, Elianna was now struggling to get up as well, and as Daemon moved to help Tabitha back to her feet, Kitch moved forward, huskily hauling his much lighter girlfriend up off the ground and holding tightly onto her even as she latched onto him for dear life.

"What the _blazes _was that?" Tabitha demanded, brushing off Daemon's helping hand.

"A dinosaur." The boy answered. "Tyrannosaurus Rex, by the looks of it. Likely a male, fully grown-"

"It couldn't have been." She snapped, sounding unready to believe such a tale. "They've been extinct for sixty-five million years."

"Careful Tabs," Daemon answered, picking up on the nicknames the friends often exchanged. "Your inner muggle is beginning to show."

"Yeah?" The dark-skinned witch asked, moving towards Daemon with dangerous purpose. "I dare you to say that again-"

"Your inner muggle's showing, Tabs." Daemon repeated. "It means that for a witch you're thinking incredibly a lot like a muggle might."

"Dinosaurs-"

"He has a point, Tabby." Elianna muttered, forcing herself free of her boyfriend as she moved to defuse the situation developing between Tabitha and Daemon. "Just because we've never seen them before doesn't mean there could be no dinosaurs left."

"But-"

"According to muggles," Daemon added. "Magic isn't real, dragons and unicorns never existed, and Humans are the only sentient race in existence, all three of which those standing here now _know _to be false. If they're wrong about all that, why can't they be wrong about an order of animals they _believe _to be extinct?"

"Yeah?" She challenged, unwilling to go down quietly. "How's a great big Tyrannosaurus Rex been hiding in the middle of these woods for sixty-five million years?"

"Maybe that's why no one ever comes in here." Elianna mused.

"But something seems off." Tabitha countered. "I mean, where's it at now?"

As if suddenly inspired by her question, all four looked up, expecting to see the great super-predator looking down upon them, but there was nothing, nothing aside from the trees towering over them.

"Perhaps it's looking for a way around…or maybe it already _knows _a way around." Daemon suggested.

"I say let's not wait around to find out. Come on you guys, let's get moving." Kitch suggested, turning and walking in the opposite direction of the cliff they'd just fallen down, the other three forming up directly behind him.

As they moved, he quickly took stock of what little he now had with him as far as their original supplies went. He had, it appeared a moment later, both his bottles of water, his wand, which, thankfully, was still in tact, and the sheathed, goblin-made katana he'd inherited from Pax all those months ago. Looking behind him as he walked, he was pleased to see that Elianna still had her Kokiri Bow slung across her back and that she, too, like both Tabitha and Daemon, had her wand out, inspecting it to make sure it hadn't cracked or broken during their recent flight.

Kitch sighed as he looked from Tabitha, who too had her inheritance from Pax still in tact, to the newest member of their troupe, who still had his wand out, his predatory, analytical eyes of study taking in every aspect of their surroundings.

Part of him, Kitch admitted, hated himself for the way he'd treated the boy earlier. After all, he had no real evidence that Daemon Black was up to no good, and the boy, aside from his own personal beliefs, had given none of them any reason to doubt him yet.

Of course, another part of him, that part that was always awake and practical, never ruled by emotions, reminded him of what folly it was to ignore his instincts, to shut out the advice his guts gave him, especially given recent history, what with the Black Sun Rebellions and all. And in this case, his instincts were on fire, sending up red flags with almost every encounter he had with Daemon. It was almost as if he could see the wheels turning behind the boy's icy-blue eyes, as if there were a great shadow back there, just waiting to be unleashed. His neighbor, Kitch could tell, was tainted, tainted by a darkness that could never fully be dispelled.

As if on cue he could almost hear the chastisement he'd get if his girlfriend could pick up on this thought, and immediately the word "hypocrite" floated to the surface of his mind, and now he felt just slightly ashamed. After all, of all the people in the world, Kitch Grant, he knew, had no room to talk about being tainted by a darkness that could never fully be dispelled.

He'd lived his whole life knowing that the Dread Lord Imperious was, in fact, his father, the former Deputy Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in the United States of America, Matthias Grant. Even from a young age he'd hated the man, hated him _and _his followers with the worst kind of hatred imaginable. And then there'd been the massacre of GAME Island, a massacre in which only Kitch and less than half-a-dozen others had survived. With the death of so many of his fellow students, among them his then yet-to-be-revealed half-brother, Pax Onasi, he'd felt himself slowly beginning the sinking into the Dark Side, and it had continued until, at long last, he'd ended up killing three wizards and a witch in a blind rage, furious that they'd actually planned on raping and defiling his best friend-turned-girlfriend, and the fourth and final of those victims, the aging warlock who'd actually been the one trying to commit the act, had died only _after _he'd set the man afire and tortured him with the Cruciatus Curse. During the course of that following week he'd killed eve more Black Suns, though that had been in the thick of combat, and though, thanks to his same Dread Lord father, he'd learned how to avoid the trap of the Dark Side, Kitch knew that he, too, would be tainted forever, that, no matter how much good he ever did again, he'd never fully be free of the darkness that had come so very close to claiming him.

Another thought entered Kitch's mind then, a piece of advice his father had, for some unknown reason, seen fit to give him during what had proven to be their final visit before the repercussions of the political shitstorm Kitch had created had at last fallen back to wash over them.

"_Remember," _Matthias Grant had said, his eyes adopting a haunted look. _"Keep your friends close, and your enemies even closer…after all, what better weapon is there than to turn an enemy to your cause, to use their own knowledge against them?"_

"Hey, Daemon." Kitch said, stopping to turn towards his new neighbor, deciding to take his father's advice. The boy said nothing as he stopped, eyeing Kitch with half-suspicion and half-curiousness.

"I'm sorry." He said, pressing on, letting his mind and heart speak for him without filtering whatever might come out. "For earlier, I mean. It was wrong and stupid of me to judge you based simply on what your personal beliefs are."

"What are you playing at?" He asked simply, his eyes turning colder than their color. "What's your game?"

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, Kitch, I'm not stupid." Daemon answered. "You're up to something and I would very much like to know what."

"What makes you think I'm up to something?" Kitch countered, aware that both Elianna and Tabitha had backed up now, watching their exchange from the sidelines, as though giving them both some space.

"You're a proud bloke, mate." Daemon answered, as though that should answer everything. "And proud blokes don't just _suddenly _offer an apology, especially not to someone they don't trust."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Daemon confirmed. "See, you care about both Elianna and Tabitha; they're the closest people you have, closer even than your family."

"And?"

"I actually, genuinely, offended you earlier by suggesting that muggle-born witches and wizards aren't as inherently powerful as witches and wizards descended from generations of sorcerers."

"Yeah, well, you did."

"In addition, you don't trust me, no more than you trust the Dark Lord himself. When you look at me you get the feeling I'm tainted, like there's a darkness inside of me that's never going to be fully washed off. You suspect me of being up to something, though I have no idea what that something may be."

"You're right." Kitch answered, taken aback by his own honesty. "I _don't _trust you, Daemon, I _do _sense you're tainted in a way that can never fully be fixed, and I _do _believe you're up to something. However, I don't trust you because I don't know you, which, of course, _can_ be fixed, _if _we're both willing to fix it, and while I do think you have an ulterior motive in all this, I can't prove it right now, and I believe you should always be presumed innocent until proven guilty. So yeah, I'm apologizing, because, as I've been taught, you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, nor should you judge others before getting to know them. So again, I'm sorry."

"Okay then." Daemon said, his eyes now full of astonished disbelief, curiosity, as well as their usual suspicion. Kitch, in turn, nodded and took off walking again, moving deeper and deeper into the woods.

"Of course," Daemon added a few minutes later, as though he'd just realized something else. "You're still leaving one question unanswered."

"Yeah?" Kitch asked, not stopping or turning to look around as they walked.

"Why are you willing to give me a chance, per say, if you feel I'm tainted?"

Kitch, in turn, pondered the question for several long minutes, wondering whether or not he should trust Daemon with the truth. So far, only a handful of people knew about what had really happened back in Greene City all those weeks and months ago, when Elianna had come within a mere breath of losing the most important innocence known to man. Though he'd apologized, he still didn't trust Daemon, and he certainly didn't trust his new neighbor with the truth. On the other hand, however, he knew that if he lied or refused to answer then Daemon might decide he was only trying to investigate his suspicions further…turning to look briefly at Elianna, who was now walking behind Daemon, side-by-side with Tabitha, he saw his girlfriend give a brief nod of her head…

"Back in March," Kitch found himself explaining as they walked. "A couple of days after the GAME Island Massacre, Elianna and I were in the local city for lunch when a group of Black Suns attacked us. We tried to escape, but they cornered us before too long. In the process Elianna was knocked out. They wanted me, to turn me and use me as a pawn of the Dread Lord. One of them tried to…h-he…he tried to rape her."

"Elianna, you're talking about, yes?"

Kitch nodded his head. "Yeah. Every time I tried to reach her, they kept magicking me backwards, until finally I snapped."

"You snapped?"

"I killed the other two wizards and the witch, and then I attacked the warlock that was trying to rape her. I tortured him, with the Cruciatus Curse."

"At your-_our_-age? Impressive. Most Impressive."

"The Unforgivable Curses don't care about age." Kitch answered. "They care only about magical skill, like the skill I had when I snapped. I tortured him, I wanted his mind to be crushed by the pain I was inflicting on him, to make him pay for what he'd dared to do. But it wasn't enough, so I set him on fire, and then hit him with the Cruciatus Curse. He was begging me for death when I finally killed him."

"How'd that make you feel?" Daemon asked softly, sounding more like a muggle psychiatrist than a wizard-in-training.

"Good." Kitch answered. "Beyond good. I felt like I was the most powerful being in the universe, like no one, nothing, could stop me. I was greater than any god or titan of any religion…it was like _I _was the Supreme Being of all the universe. That kind of power, though…it was also scary. My mom and family believed that I was simply drunk off of the magical high, that I couldn't control it. What's scary, though, is that I _could_. No one died except for those I _wanted _to die. I cast each curse perfectly, right at the target I was aiming at. I knew it was wrong, against the law, but I didn't really care."

He paused as they approached another line of trees, on the other side of which was yet another clearing.

"I know all about taints, Daemon, taints that, no matter how much good you do in the next thousand years, will always be there, staining you in ways that make you feel corrupted and violated. What right, therefore, do I have to hold against you something of which I myself am guilty?"

"I believe, Kitch Grant, that I may well have underestimated you, mate."

Kitch laughed as he made to enter the clearing. "Remember all of this is you ever decide to stab us in the back." And then he found himself suddenly rooted to the spot where he now stood, his eyes going wide as his heart ground to a stop.

"Oh, no worries about that, mate, you can rest assured I will indeed do just that." He answered back as he, Elianna, and Tabitha followed Kitch into the next clearing…only to discover that they weren't alone anymore.

"BLOODY HELL!" Daemon bellowed upon seeing the beast that caused Kitch to suddenly freeze.

"What the hell _is _that thing?" Tabitha asked.

"I-I'd say it-it's a dragon." Kitch answered, his knees suddenly feeling weak.

"That's no species of dragon I know about." Daemon responded, his voice barely a whisper. "Not even the Ukrainian Ironbelly can grow to be that size."

Indeed, the leviathan now standing across the meadow from them was easily twice, perhaps even three times the size of the largest known breed of dragon currently in existence. It's body was a perfect, dark shade of black, with that perfect dragon-like face. The beast's entire body was covered in thick, armored skin while its head and belly were covered up inch-for-inch with variously-sized spikes, and when it blinked they could easily see the eyelids were just as thick and armored as the rest of its body. Running down the dragon's neck and back were a triple set of long, sharp-looking quills that split out at the tail, fully covering the appendage that ended in eight long spikes.

"That's one messed up dragon." Daemon continued as the beast's orange, fiery eyes finally locked onto the four humans. "It's like a cross between a Ukrainian Ironbelly, a Hungarian Horntail, and a Norwegian Ridgeback."

"That's odd. Zannah said that the only dragons common to the British Isles are the Common Welsh Green and the Hebridean Black." Kitch added, backing up a single step as he spoke.

"So then, what do we do?" Elianna breathed as the beast extended it's wings, which were a dull crimson color of flesh and skin.

"Running," Kitch muttered. "Would be a good idea."

"Left." Daemon said. "We can't go forward, but if we go back or right we're likely to run into that blasted Tyrannosaur again."

"Left it is." Kitch agreed. "Run, NOW, RUN!"

They exploded into motion once more, veering left and narrowly avoiding a blast of flames that would have reduced all four of them to nothing more than ash. Angered at their escape, the massive dragon roared as it began to angrily flap its wings.

Back beneath the undergrowth once more, the four teens continued to flee, their feet moving them as fast as possible.

Behind them, they could hear the unmistakable sound of the beating of giant wings as the dragon took to the skies, and in turn this sound acted as motivation to spur the four teenagers onwards to even greater speeds.

The ground itself seemed to shake several minutes later as the massive beast suddenly flew over them, and, then, with the authority afforded to it by its size, the gargantuan dragon landed at the bottom of a large hill, blocking their way from moving forward.

Daemon, now at the head of the group, veered off to the right, the others following right behind him.

Next to Kitch, however, Elianna suddenly found herself going face-first to the ground as she tripped over a small stone buried halfway in the ground, and even as she made contact the dragon advanced, sensing its impending victory.

Not thinking twice, Kitch spun around and rushed back to his girlfriend's side, but even as he made to help her up he knew that it was too late. The Leviathan had its mouth opened wide, and Kitch, in turn, grabbed Elianna and moved to cover her with his own body, determined to protect her from certain doom-

"KITCH!" Tabitha yelled, realizing what was soon about to happen. "NO-"

His friend's screams of horror, however, was drowned out by the massive eruption of a blast of molten flames, and, with his final seconds ticking away, he threw both himself and Elianna to the ground, knowing that, though he was still dead, he might nevertheless be able to protect his girlfriend from the danger…

Except even as the flames washed over him he there was nothing. No heat, no pain, no death…

And then, quite as suddenly as the dragon had appeared, it, and its fiery attack, were both gone, gone as though they'd never existed to begin with.

"What the-" Kitch began, only to be cut off.

"Bloody Hell." Daemon gasped as he and Tabitha approached Kitch and Elianna, both of whom were still on the ground, him on top of her, afraid of what he might find when he looked up. "It was never real."

"A ghost?" Kitch asked as he rolled off of Elianna, who in turn rushed to sit up and take in their surroundings. "You're telling me we were chased by a _kriffin' ghost_? What-"

"You stupid moron!" Elianna shouted suddenly, slapping his shoulder with as much force as she could manage. "What the _devil _were you thinking?"

"I…what…huh?" He asked stupidly.

"You could have died!" She roared, slapping him even harder. "It was such a stupid, thoughtless-"

"I was thinking that I was about to watch my best friend get roasted alive." He defended himself, jumping to his feet.

"Yeah?" She asked, climbing to her feet as well. "Did you really want me to live knowing you'd died trying to _protect _me-"

"Actually, that fire, had it been real, would have killed you both." Daemon explained. "And I don't think it was a ghost so much as it was an apparition."

"Magical?" Tabitha asked.

"It'd almost have to be." Daemon answered. "Your usual spirits, ghosts, and apparitions are transparent to some extent or another: both the dragon and the Rex looked extremely realistic…real enough to have us running for our lives."

"If they're magical," Kitch continued, suddenly thankful to have a reason to avoid his girlfriend's gaze and attention. "Then it'd be almost certain that _someone _cast them, right?"

"Not necessarily, but in this case, yeah, I'd think so." Daemon answered as Tabitha began walking off towards the hill the dragon had landed in front of moments before. "Which is interesting, because it'd take a nice bit of advanced magic to summon those apparitions and make them look so realistic. Magic, especially dark and powerful magic, leaves some kind of trace, and yet I sense nothing."

"You can sense magic?" Kitch found himself asking.

"Sometimes, yeah." The other boy admitted.

"Okay, then." Kitch continued. "If someone is behind this then there has to be a reason. The question we have now is what, exactly, is that reason?"

"To scare us away?" Daemon asked. "It's the only thing I can think of that makes sense.

"Yeah, but _what _are they trying to scare us away from, exactly?"

"I think I might have an answer to that one!" Tabitha shouted several seconds later, now standing at the top of the small hill.

"What?" Kitch and Daemon asked in unison. "What might that be?"

"Perhaps you should come see for yourself." She answered back, and as though they were one body, the other three teens moved forward in unison, charging forward up the lazy incline like some past muggle army.

Kitch admitted to himself that he was afraid of what they might find once they reached the crest of the hill. After all, based on what he knew of these woods thus far, he was half-expecting a ruined complex of old buildings full of rotten corpses and skeletons, clear signs of past use of Black Magic. What they found, however, took his breath away like few other things ever had.

At the foot of the hill, nestled among a grove of tall, thick trees, each hundreds of years old, sat the ruined remains of what had certainly once been a tall, majestic, proud ziggurat-style temple. Taking a single step towards the ruins, Kitch felt a sudden jolt of energy course through him in such a way as he'd never before felt. He could almost taste the faded magic that infested the ruins, a magic so powerful that it nearly felt as though he were drowning. Foreboding, mixed with alarm, fear, trepidation, excitement, and determination, settled into the pit of his stomach as he squared his shoulders, preparing himself for what he knew must next be done.

"We're never going to find anything just by standing here."

And with those words he moved forward, Daemon at his side while Tabitha and Elianna flanked them. Though his wand remained stowed safely in the waistband of his shorts, Kitch was nevertheless scanning the runs as they approached, looking for the first sign of trouble, deciding then and now that he'd much prefer to be in trouble for breaking the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery than injuring himself or one of the others by trying to use a weapon he had no experience with.

"Wonder how long it's been abandoned." Tabitha muttered as they reached the first pieces of rubble and debris.

"Judging by the state of the ruins, the location of several key elements of the temple, and the rate of decay, I'd say at least three hundred years, perhaps longer." Daemon answered, stopping to inspect a piece of broken stone slab.

The bottom quarter of the temple's base still stood, the broken, empty archway of what had likely once been a doorway looming several feet above Kitch's head. As he crossed the broken threshold, it quickly became apparent that the temple had once been a mighty, majestic piece of artwork.

"Wonder what it was for." He murmured as he entered the first room, the floor of which was littered with debris and vegetation that had long since defeated the stone and marble floor holding it down. Bright, warm sunlight filtered in through where the ceiling had once been, illuminating all that remained for them to see.

"It looks similar to the Mayan ziggurat pyramids in Central and South America." Elianna answered, standing right behind him.

"Yes, those were often used to worship gods." Daemon added, moving towards one of the walls. "Perhaps this temple had a similar purpose. Very odd-"

"Odd?" Tabitha asked. "How's it odd?"

"Because, this type of structure, as Elianna pointed out, is more common in Central and South America than it is anywhere else. What would a Mayan temple be doing all the way here in Britain?"

"Perhaps some of the early American explorers saw what the Mayans did and-"

"Not possible mate." Daemon cut Kitch off. "The first explorers didn't reach the Americas until the sixteenth century, and they weren't Englishmen. No, this makes no sense, none at all."

"What if…" Tabitha trailed off, appearing deep in thought. "What if that muggle, Columbus, _wasn't _the first person to reach the Americas?"

"What are you saying?" Daemon asked, pausing where he stood.

"You said it yourself, earlier." Tabitha explained, sounding pleased that her idea wasn't being discarded immediately. "When you said my muggle was showing, you said 'According to muggles, magic isn't real, dragons and unicorns never existed, and Humans are the only sentient race in existence, all three of which those standing here now _know _to be false. If they're wrong about all that…' Well, why can't they also be wrong about who discovered the Americas first?"

"_Now _you're talking." Daemon approved. "_Now _you're beginning to sound like the witch you were born as. Either ancient British witches and wizards discovered the American continents first _or _past Mayan sorcerers came across the British Islands first."

"You do understand that what you're both suggesting would not just rewrite history as we know it but also alter it _and _perhaps even the future forever, right?" Kitch asked, moving forward.

"Is that such a bad thing?" Daemon asked.

"Perhaps." Kitch answered with a shrug of his shoulders. "Perhaps not. Depends on whether or not your theory is true."

Daemon laughed but said nothing as continued his path to the wall, silent now as he began to study the symbols that covered almost every inch of the walls that they could see.

"Well," Kitch continued sarcastically as he, too, began studying the symbols. "We'll get _this _mystery solved in next to no time at all. I mean, can't be that hard, translating ancient symbols and texts, now can it?"

"Not hard at all." Daemon answered. "As I recognize these symbols from my Ancient Runes class."

"Really?" Kitch asked. "What do they say?"

"Three in life, one in death, choose the one you wish not to be given, choose right and you'll find where It is hidden." Daemon paused, moving to study four symbols just above the floor. "One is Fire, one is water, one is wind, and the final is thunder."

"What's it mean?" Tabitha asked.

"Is it not obvious?" Daemon responded lightly.

"Oh yes, it's _very _obvious." She answered sarcastically. "I mean, that's the whole reason I asked."

"We've been given four symbols." Elianna answered. "Each symbol represents a natural element. Three are elements that give life, one brings death. We want to choose the one we want not to be given, so obviously we have to choose the element that brings death if we're to find where It is hidden."

"What is It?" Kitch asked, his brow furrowing in thought.

"Well, we can rule out the element of Water." Daemon said, still staring down at the four symbols. "Without Water we'd _have _no life."

"Fire?" Kitch asked. "It is an element of death-"

"Perhaps not, mate." Daemon cut off. "Fire can give life too."

"How?"

"By destroying older vegetation and making room for new plantlife to grow in turn." Daemon answered.

"Wind?" Elianna asked.

"I don't think so." Daemon continued. "Some plants rely on winds to spread their seed so that new plants of that species can grow and take root."

"So then, that leaves thunder." Kitch answered. "But can't lightening spark wildfires, which in turn gives life to new plantlife?" "Yeah, but that's an indirect chain of events." Daemon answered. "Lightening isn't directly responsible for giving life, not in any way that I can think of, at any rate."

"So then, we have three elements directly responsible for actions that give life and one that's not." Elianna surmised. "That sounds like our answer to me."

"Hang on." Kitch declared, still feeling uneasy. "It's too easy, too simple."

"From your point-of-view, perhaps." Daemon countered. "However, sometimes we may find that the simplest problems are the most complex, the most difficult to solve. Perhaps whoever created this puzzle knew we'd feel the answer's too easy and _that's _why they left it as it now is."

"Okay then, so the answer's Thunder. Now what?"

Daemon, in turn, bent down and pressed gently against one of the four large symbols, and almost at that very instant a section of wall on the other side of the room opened up, revealing a narrow corridor beyond that, by the looks of it, traveled well below ground.

As though a group of automatic servants, the four teenagers covered the room's distance, not hesitating as they entered the narrow corridor beyond what had, moments before, been a solid wall. However, once Tabitha, bringing up the rear of the group, was in, the wall slammed shut, effectively cutting them off from the outside world.

"Smart move." Tabitha barked as they stopped for a brief pause, looking at what was once more solid wall. "We're _so _lubed if we find anything that turns out to be not-so-friendly."

"I've got a backup plan or two." Kitch returned as they again began their descent down the corridor. "Let's just hope we don't have to use them."

"Why not?" Daemon asked, causing him to laugh.

"Because," He answered a moment later as the corridor leveled off. "As Tabby said, we'll be _so _lubed."

The corridor, however, ended almost the moment it leveled off, and, as though thoroughly determined to keep them from escaping, the steps that had made the corridor dissovled, creating nothing but a steep, slick slide that'd be all but impossible to ascend.

"I am really beginning to think that coming down here was a bad IDEA!" The last word of Elianna's sentence was transformed into a screen as the floor below them suddenly dissolved, leaving nothing but darkness below as all for teens screamed their objections.

Kitch fought to try and reach for the first of his backup plans, but found that he was falling too rapidly and out of control to reach into the pockets of his shorts.

Moments later the falling came to an abrubt stop as they landed on something soft and massive, making the event relatively painless.

"So, Kitch, about that backup plan of yours." Tabitha said, shuffling through the darkness. Though he wasn't too keen about retreating like a coward, they were forbidden to use magic except to save their lives, and though he didn't mind breaking the law to do that, he knew it'd nevertheless be wise to avoid such a situation altogether if possible.

He felt something slithering beneath him as he reached towards his shorts pockets, and then, as the tips of his fingers brushed up against the fabrics of his shorts, something thick, cold, damp and slimy wrapped around his wrist, jerking it away from his body.

"What the-" Tabitha began, only to have Elianna's screams cut her sentence off before it even fully formed.

"Well curse it all!" Daemon barked. "This isn't the best situation I've ever been in."

"What the _blazes _is it?" Kitch asked, struggling as the mass of whatever it was continued to strengthen its grip on him, acting as though his struggling was actually making it act faster and tougher.

"It's a Devil's Snare." The British teen answered back, sounding suddenly calm and at peace. "And a really old one by the feel of it."

"Any ideas on how to get free of it?" Tabitha asked. "We-" The rest of her words, however, were drowned out, muffled, as though she'd suddenly been gagged and bound.

"Calm down, everyone, now!" Daemon ordered. "The more we struggle the more aggressive it gets. If you don't move, it'll release you, but if you struggle it'll only kill you faster."

"Just _kriffin' _lovely." Kitch growled, his arms bound now so that it was impossible to reach inside of his shorts. "Okay, then, time for Plan B." He growled. "SKI-"

The name of the family house-elf, however, was drowned out suddenly as a thick, green slimy vine covered his mouth, preventing him from saying anything else.

Moments later he could have sworn he heard the sound of a distant _thump_, like a body hitting the ground dozens of feet away. Deciding to test Daemon's theory, he then closed his eyes and held his breath, pretending he were somewhere, anywhere, else, doing something other than being held captive by a Devil's Snare.

After several long, silent seconds, the grip the monstrosity had on him suddenly disappeared, and again the young wizard had the sensation that he was falling freely through the air…until his rump exploded several seconds later as he contacted cold, hard stone.

"You okay, mate?" Daemon asked, helping him to his feet.

"Yeah." He muttered, dusting himself off. "Tabby, Elianna, it's okay! Just close your eyes, hold your breath, and pretend you're somewhere else!"

A minute later he and Daemon were again helping the two girls back to their feet, and, though bruised, Kitch was glad to at least see that they were all still in one piece.

"I wish we had some light." Tabitha muttered, and with that last word torches flickered to life along the walls, dim green flames that cast the room into a surreal emerald glow. Square in shape and large in size, there was only one way out…the corridor sitting silently to their left.

"What do you guys think?" Daemon asked. "Do we keep going or use one of Kitch's escape plans to go back the way we came?"

"We keep going." Kitch answered, moving towards the corridor. "We've survived a Tyrannosaurus Rex, a dragon, and a Devil's Snare. What could possibly be left that's worse than all that?"

"Be careful, Kitch Grant, of what you wish for." Daemon warned softly. "Because you just might get it."

"Kitch has a point." Elianna said, backing her boyfriend up. What if the It your ancient runes spoke of is something that could benefit all of mankind, magical and muggle alike? We'd be derilict in our duties as wizards in not putting forth all our efforts to recover it."

"And what if it's a second Pandora's Box?" Daemon asked. "What if these anti-intruder spells are here for a reason? What if by going forward we risk releasing an unknown evil into our world? What if, by not withdrawing, we're dooming all of the world's muggles, or worse, sorcerers?"

Kitch paused, considering their new neighbor's words, and though he felt an irresistable urge to move forward, he knew Daemon had a very valid point. After all, Kitch's bloodline was notable for countless deeds of good and kindness all across the globe, but it'd also been responsible for one of the world's top five dark wizards of all time as well? Did he really want to risk tarnishing what was left of his family name even further by chasing a glory that may never have even existed?

"We exercise due caution as we move, but, for now, I say we move forward."

And he fitted words to action by moving forward, entering the corridor without ever looking back, knowing by the sounds of their footsteps that all three of the other teens were following right behind him.

The corridor seemed to stretch on forever, but eventually, as Kitch privately began reconsidering his decision to not go home, it came to a stone wall, leaving them only the option of turning right and going down another corridor consisting of a solid, smooth ramp-like floor.

Not hesitating, afraid of what he might decide if he did, Kitch put one foot in front of the other and began walking down the steps, and, to his relief, nothing happened. Encouraged by his apparent success, his three friends joined him, and together, side-by-side in the much-wider corridor, the four began moving forward…

Until the ground beneath them began to rumble and shake, and with the sound of a blasting crash coming from behind, the four turned as one to look up at the corridor entrance…just in time to see a massive, solid boulder drop from an endless ceiling and begin rolling towards them.

"Not good." Kitch said. "RUN!"

None of them needed to be told twice, and, with their very lives now on the line, they charged forward with reckless abandon, speeding down the ramp as, behind them, the boulder gained momentum.

They veered left at the end of the corridor, slowing down with the thought that they'd be safe now, but the boulder crashed into the wall and began rolling directly towards them, and wasting no addition time they moved forward once more.

Left.

Right.

Left.

Right.

Forward.

Right.

On the four friends ran, their feet and legs now burning with fatigue as their muscles began to stiffen and their bones began to groan in protest.

"W-we c-can't… …keep this…we can't go on-"

And Kitch's sentence was cut off as the floor below them again disappeared, sending them sprawling through the air once more, the boulder coming to rest above, covering the hole in the floor that had inadvertantly saved their lives.

Several long, silent moments passed by, stretching on like millennia and eons, filled only with the sound of rushing air…at least, until they hit water…

The shocking, numbing coldness of the subterrainian lake froze Kitch for several long moments, paralyzing him into doing nothing as he collected himself. Once his body began shrugging off the effects, however, he was again on the move, his head eventually breaking surface only a few feet away from the edge, which, in turn, was elevated nearly a full foot above the water.

Before he could proceed to the shore, however, he felt something thin and powerful grab each of his ankles, forcing him back under the water once more.

His eyes stung as he opened them underwater, but he shut out that pain, bending over to look at what had such a powerful hold on him, and almost immediately he recognized the agressor…it was a matching pair of Grindylows, and the look in their eyes made it perfect what their intentions were. Kitch, however, smiled, feeling, for the first time all day, as if he were now the one in control.

He doubled over, grabbing the Grindylow on his left with both hands. One of the countless dark creatures they'd studied in their Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, he knew them to be strong water demons with amazingly brittle and weak fingers, which, because they were so easy to break, created a dangerous vulnerability for them.

Balling his left fist up, Kitch lashed out, putting every last ounce of strength into the punch, and, sure enough, the impact was too great for the Grindylow on his left, and with its fingers now broken, that creature disappeared into the depths once more.

His left foot now free, he brought the tip of it swinging over to his left foot, catching the second Grindylow's fingers and breaking them as well, forcing it to release him as well, freeing him to again return to the surface, his lungs gasping for air.

Daemon and Tabitha were already safely on the edge of the water, safe from the Grindylows and gasping to catch their breath. Looking around, however, Kitch felt his heart plummeting as he realized Elianna was nowhere to be seen.

"Elianna?" He shouted, moving towards the edge of the water, not moving to get out in case-

The sound of frantic splashing immediately commandeered his attention, and, turning back towards the center of the body of water, through the dim light, he could make out a form that could only be Elianna, her head struggling just briefly before she was again forced back underwater.

"Elianna!" He roared, charging forward through the water like a shark in search of prey. Rapidly approaching where she'd submerged once more, he followed her underwater, his eyes opening and rejecting the stinging as he locked onto the three Grindylows dragging her helplessly towards the bottom.

His lungs now demanding a new supply of oxygen real soon, he began the process of attacking each Grindylow one-by-one, breaking their fingers and forcing them to release their grip on his girlfriend.

Once done he grabbed Elianna from behind, his arms wrapping around her chest just below the twin lumps of her breasts, and, his lungs now on the verge of seizing up from lack of fresh air, he began kicking for the surface while also moving closer to the shore.

His lungs were now so desperate for a fresh supply of oxygen that they began trying to force him to breath, even though he was still underwater, and his mind was slowly losing the battle and the willpower to hold off on making such a fatal mistake.

Luckily, though, his head, Elianna's right next to him, broke the surface once more, and as his frenzied lungs swallowed in their needed oxygen and Elianna began coughing, a sign she was still alive, he finished powering them towards Daemon and Tabitha, both of whom were now stretching out to pull Elianna safely out of the water.

"You okay Kitch?" Tabitha asked as he followed his girlfriend to the stone shore, and, too breathless to speak, he nodded his head, and, afraid of what Elianna might say for this one, he avoid her eyes, staring down at the floor instead.

"Guys, can Kitch and I have a moment alone?" She asked, her voice amazingly steady and calm. Daemon and Tabitha, in turn, moved away, crossing the room in silence to comply with her request.

"Before you say anything, I _know _it was stupid to go after you." He began, but before he could continue he found his face being forced upwards, and even as he made contact with her eyes, hidden now behind wet, misty glasses, her lips were pressing against his, and he found himself melting away like a puddle of water.

"Thanks." She mumbled several seconds later as their lips finally parted. "You don't know how luck I am you've always got my back."

"Always." He answered, taking her hands into his and pulling her close for another kiss. "Look, about earlier-"

"Don't sweat it, Kitch." She said, kissing him back. "It wasn't a real dragon, and it _is _nice to know there's someone who thinks my life is more important than his own."

As she finished she pulled her glasses off and slung them towards the ground, sending the larger drops of water flying away.

"Wow, you two really need to find a room." Daemon muttered as he and Tabitha returned. "Anywho, if you're both done playing kissy-kissy, we've found another exit."

"Let's go." Kitch muttered, pulling his girlfriend to her feet. "I find myself suddenly no longer caring if it's the Staff of Merlin himself hidden down here."

Through the next corridor they walked, Kitch holding his girlfriend to his side the entire time, even as they reached another deadend of thick, mighty stone.

"I can see no way of opening it." Daemon admitted a moment later after he finished examining closely.

"Bloody _kriffin' _hell!" Kitch roared, not knowing what else to say. "OPEN!"

And quite suddenly, on that one single word, the wall slid down into the ground, revealing a tall, rectangular doorway for them to walk through.

"Nice one, mate." Daemon laughed as the four crossed the threshold and continued across the room, a small, circular space.

"Congratulations on surviving my spells." A light voice called out. "Of course, now that you've found me I suppose I must now decide what I shall do with you."

All four teens spun around.

* * *

><p>{<strong>Location: <strong>Little Sherryport, Southern England}

"Can I help you?" The brown-haired woman asked, and it was all Izumi Tatsu could do to not vomit in repulsion. The muggle woman was small and skinny, what some muggles might consider pretty or even beautiful, but the years, though she could be no more than forty, had taken their toll on her.

"Yes, ma'am." She replied back, forcing kindness and a polite tone into her voice. "I'm a professor from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I must speak with your son."

"Plo?" She asked, a confused look taking over her face. "Is he in trouble? Has he done something-"

"Your son is in no trouble, Ms. Tamwood." She answered, cutting the woman off before she could babble on any further. "I'm here merely to speak to him regarding one of the assignments I gave him for the summer holidays."

"Oh, okay." She responded, clearly relieved. "Plo!" She beckoned back into the small cottage she called home. "You have a visitor!"

"_Who is it?"_

"One of your teachers!" The woman shouted. "Now get down here!" As she finished she turned back towards Izumi. "Would you like to come in, miss-"

"No thank you, Ms. Tamwood." Izumi answered, refusing to enter such a filthy home, an act that'd be an insult to wizards everywhere. "I've not been feeling kindly lately, I'm afraid."

"I'm sorry to hear that-"

"Who is-oh, hello, _professor._" The boy answered, and though he clearly knew she was lying, he was making no effort to call her out on it.

"Come along, Mr. Tamwood, we must speak. Don't fret, Ms. Tamwood: I'll have him home before curfew."

"Of course, Professor." The woman answered, eyeing her son. "Stay out of trouble, Plo, or I'll have you grounded all summer."

"Okay, mum, don't get your knickers in a twist."

As Izumi led Plo Tamwood away from his home, she had to resist the urge to smile. Slightly taller and thinner than his father, the boy had the man's eyes and face, and though a mudblood he very much had his father's power.

"Okay, drop the act." Plo ordered seconds later. "We both know you're not a Hogwarts professor, so tell me who you really are, why you're here, and what you want from me."

"You've been cursed with dirty blood, Mr. Tamwood. Tell me, have you never wondered about your father, the man who couldn't let you be born of a witch and thus gaurantee you come from noble magical stock?"

"One day I will find him, and he will answer to me, but for now I'm content-"

"I know _who _your father is and where he's at right now, at this very moment."

"You what?"

"Through your father you have inherited a great deal of magical talent, talent that, through your present course, will be squandered and wasted. He abandoned you to whatever fate destiny might have in store for you, no longer caring two Knuts about you."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I am in the market for an apprentice, Mr. Tamwood, someone to whom I can pass my knowledge and experience, a student who can progress forward my legacy. I have chosen you to become my learner."

"What's in it for me?" He asked, stopping to look at the woman. "Aside from so-called knowledge? What would I be getting? What would you be doing for me, and me for you?"

"You will give me your full, unquestionable loyalty." She answered, smiling beneath her cloak. "You will do precisely as I instruct as we advance our goals. I will pass down to you great knowledge, knowledge you could obtain nowhere else. I will make you the most powerful wizard in history."

"My father." He insisted. "Prove your claims to me. Give me my father to punish and I will be your 'apprentice'. Take me to him, now."

Her smile only grew. Fully turning him to the Dark Side would be much easier than she had planned.

"In time, my young apprentice." She answered. "First you must learn of the legacy he's left you, and we will hit him where it hurts the most."

"What do you mean?"

"Your first target will be your younger brother."

"Brother?" He spat. "I have a brother?"

"Two, to be precise, and three sisters. One brother, however, is dead. You see, you are not the only child of the former Dread Lord Imperious, known again as Matthias Grant."

"And you'll give me all of them?"

"I will teach you how to destroy every last one of them _before _you kill them."

"Then I submit myself to your teachings, my mistress. What would you have of me?"

"Take my arm. We will retire to a more private place where we can further discuss your education, my apprentice."

As he was instructed, he took her arm, and with a loud _CRACK _they were gone.

* * *

><p><strong>And that be the end of Chapter Two. Yes, I know, <em>Harry Potter<em> meets _Indiana Jones_ meets _Jurassic Park_. So, anyone have any ideas yet as to what the temple's for, or who it is they discovered deep beneath its ruins?**

**You guys don't know just how hard it was for me to write this particular chapter, especially when I have to keep in mind that Kitch, Daemon, Elianna, and Tabitha aren't allowed to use magic outside of school unless their lives are on the life, and though I know some of those circumstances could be considered life-threatening I still thought it'd be best for them to use non-magical solutions to make their escapes.**

**And no, despite all evidence to the contrary, Izumi Tatsu's not up to her old tricks...she's up to all new ones. So, has she truly found a second illegitimate son of the Dread Lord, or is she mudding the facts and twisting an innocent boy to meet her sick, demented needs and wishes? ****Hmm...I suppose there's only one way to find out, isn't there?**

**Until next time...**


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